u 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


The    Island    Wharf. 


ERNEST; 


NO      HUMBUG. 


Lying  lips  are  abomination  to  the  Lord:  but  they  that  deal 
truly  are  his  delight.— PROV.  xii,  22. 


FOUR     ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Seta  gorh: 


PUBLISHED  BY  CARLTON  &  PORTER, 

SUNDAY- SCHOOL  UNION,    '2'''1  Mfl.liK.MKV-STlMCET. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 
CARLTON    &    PORTER, 

in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for 
the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


TZ.7 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGB 

I.  How  RACHEL  13  FOUND 7 

II.  ERNEST  PROTECTS  RACHEL 33 

III.  ERNEST'S  NEW  FATHER 63 

IV.  GOING  HOME 85 

V.  THE  FIRST  WALK 104 

YL  THE  WRECK 131 

VII.  CAPTAIN  LEE'S  STORY 147 

VEIL  THE  BOY'S  RAPT 181 

IX.  DISOBEDIENCE  PUNISHED 200 

X.  No  HUMBUG 229 


THE  ISLAND  WHARF 2 

RACHEL  INTRODUCED  TO  FAITH 52 

ERNEST  AND  THE  MINNOW 126 

OUT  ON  THE  RAFT 224 


622823 


ERNEST; 

OR, 

NO     HUMBUG. 


CHAPTER  I. 

HOW   EACHEL   IS   FOUND. 

WASHINGTON-STREET  in  Boston  was 
very  much  thronged  one  bright  fall 
morning.  There  were  private  car- 
riages of  every  kind,  omnibuses,  cars, 
the  great  horses  with  the  cumber- 
some drays  for  which  the  city  is  cele- 
brated, express  wagons,  store  wagons, 
men  with  very  large  loads  on  their 
backs,  wheelbarrows,  hand-carts,  be- 
sides a  variety  of  nondescript  vehicles 
which  classed  nowhere.  Police  offi- 


8         ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

cers  were  very  busy  protecting  the 
crossings,  ordering  on  the  drivers 
when  the  carelessness  of  one  made  a 
stop  in  the  otherwise  ceaseless  flow, 
arranging  disputes,  and,  in  a  general 
manner,  preserving  a  quiet  order  amid 
this  Babel  of  confusion. 

On  the  sidewalks  the  stream  of  life 
never  ebbed,  never  for  a  moment 
seemed  to  pause,  but  on  it  went,  up 
and  down,  down  and  up,  as  if  it  never 
could  end.  It  was  almost  like  a  gen- 
eral holiday.  The  sunlight  was  so 
bright,  the  sky  so  blue,  the  air  so 
clear,  everybody  seemed  to  have  come 
out  dressed  in  their  best  to  enjoy  it, 
and  to  be  doing  what  they  had  come 
for. 

At  the  corner  of  one  of  the  thor- 
oughfares, about  noon,  the  crowd 
began  to  stop,  and,  as  usual  on  such 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.         9 

occasions,  it  grew  very  rapidly  larger 
and  larger,  until  the  police  were  at- 
tracted, and  might  be  seen  from  all 
parts  of  the  street  making  their  way 
toward  it.  It  was  a  noiseless  gather- 
ing ;  there  was  no  bustle  or  confusion ; 
not  a  voice  was  heard ;  the  whole  mass 
seemed  to  be  either  looking  or  at- 
tempting to  look  at  something  that 
was  still  and  harmless. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  asked  a  lady,  who 
was  driving  by,  of  her  coachman. 
The  man  stopped  his  horses,  raised 
himself  on  his  seat  until  he  could  look 
over  the  heads  of  the  crowd,  and  then 
said, 

"I  don't  see  anything  but  a  little 
girl." 

" Is  she  hurt?" 

"  I  don't  know ;  she  is  sitting  on 
the  steps  of  a  store  with  a  basket." 


10       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

"  Is  she  a  poor  child  ?" 

"  All  rags  and  dirt,  ma'am,"  replied 
the  .coachman,  after  taking  another 
look.  "  She  has  an  old  shawl  pinned 
over  her  head,  and  a  great  cut  over 
her  eye — it  has  been  bleeding.  I  dare 
say  she  fell  and  hurt  herself,  and  that 
is  what  has  drawn  the  crowd." 

"  Look  again,  John  ;  what  kind  of 
a  child  is  she  ?" 

"  I  can't  tell,  ma'am,  she  is  so  dirty ; 
but  she  looks  savage  like,  as  if  she 
were  a  dog,  and  would  fly  at  them  and 
bite  them  if  any  one  tried  to  touch 
her.  There,  now,  I  thought  so.  A 
man  went  up  to  her  and  she  struck 
at  him  with  a  stick.  Don't  you  hear 
her!" 

The  lady  heard  a  low  growl  like 
an  angry  dog's,  ending  in  a  sharp, 
quick  'scream,  and  the  coachman  said, 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.       11 

"I  wonder  what  they  want  to 
plague  her  for ;  she  would  go  her  own 
way  well  enough  if  they  would  let 
her  alone.  There  are  the  police. 
How  her  eyes  flash.  I  should  think 
she  was  crazy,  or  had  been  drinking."" 

"  Shocking,  John  ;  can't  you  speak 
to  a  policeman  ?" 

John  readily  called  one,  who  came 
respectfully  to  the  carriage. 

"What  child  is  this?"  the  lady 
asked. 

"  Don't  know,  ma'am.  As  far  as  I 
can  judge  it  is  one  who  has  set  down 
there  because  she  is  too  tired  to  go 
any  further,  and  the  crowd  have  fret- 
ted her  until  she  is  well  nigh  crazy. 
But  the  officers  have  got  to  her 
now,  and  she  will  soon  be  taken  care 
of." 

The  man  touched  his  hat  and  was 


12       EKNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

going  away,  when  the  lady  called  him 
back. 

"  My  name  is  Mrs.  Tilton.  I  live 

No.  — ,  street.  Let  me  have 

that  child,  I  will  take  care  of  her." 

Mrs.  Tilton  was  the  wife  of  an  em- 
inent merchant  in  the  city ;  the  officer 
knew  him  well,  so  he  said, 

"I  will  inquire  more  about  it  and 
let  you  know." 

"  Be  as  quick  as  you  can,  and  be 
sure  you  bring  the  child ;  here  is 
something  for  you,"  and  she  slipped 
a  bright  dollar  into  his  hand. 

In  the  mean  time  the  constant  and 
peculiar  screams  of  the  child  filled 
the  air,  and  drew  to  the  spot  a  larger 
and  a  larger  crowd.  Mrs.  Tilton's 
horses  became  restless,  and  were  or- 
dered a  few  steps  further  on.  Here 
again  they  soon  required  a  man  at  their 


ERNEST;  on,  NO  HUMBUG.       13 

heads  to  restrain  them,  and  Mrs.  Til- 
ton  was  beginning  to  fear  she  must 
go  and  leave  the  child  to  her  fate, 
when  she  saw  the  policeman  with 
whom  she  had  spoken  holding  the 
child  in  his  firm,  strong  hands  on  his 
shoulder  above  the  heads  of  the 
crowd,  she  striking  him  on  his  hat, 
on  his  face,  or  anywhere  that  she 
could  aim  a  direct  and  hard  blow. 
Her  shawl  had  dropped  off  during  the 
struggle,  and  now,  twisted  around  her 
neck,  let  a  large  head  of  dark  hair 
down  to  fly  in  every  direction.  Her 
eyes  looked  so  wild  and  terror-strick- 
en, and  her  face  was  so  deathly  pale, 
that  Mrs.  Til  ton  involuntarily  closed 
her  own  eyes  to  shut  the  sight  out ; 
but  still  the  screams  continued  and 
the  crowd  becoming  excited,  were  be- 
ginning to  be  noisy  too,  when  the  man, 


14       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

aided  by  two  otters,  who  made  way 
for  him,  reached  the  carriage,  and, 
without  any  farther  ceremony,  put  the 
child  in.  Springing  in  himself,  the 
officer  said,  apologetically, 

"  Tell  your  man  to  drive  quickly 
out  of  the  way,  we  can  then  see  what 
it  means." 

'At  this  moment  came  shouts  of 
"Stop!  stop!" 

"  Stop !"  said  the  officer  authorita- 
tively, and  John  once  more  drew  up 
his  horses. 

"Take  this,"  said  another  officer, 
handing  in  the  basket,  which  the  child 
had  been  obliged  to  drop ;  "  it  may  be 
a  clew  as  to  who  and  what  she  is." 

John  took  it  on  the  outside  of  the 
carriage,  and  once  more  drove  on. 

As  soon  as  he  had  taken  his  seat, 
the  police  officer  had  lifted  the  child 


ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG.       15 

in  his  lap,  and  was  holding  her  with 
a  strength  which  he  would  have  used 
on  a  much  larger  person;  but  she 
had  been  so  violent  he  did  not  dare 
to  lessen  his  hold  for  fear  she  would 
attempt  to  spring  away.  She  sat  up- 
right, with  every  nerve  and  muscle 
strained  to  their  utmost ;  but  she  had 
stopped  screaming,  and  only  stared 
in  a  vacant,  almost  idiotic  way  in 
Mrs.  Tilton's  face  as  she  sat  opposite 
to  her.  Mrs.  Tilton  tried  in  vain 
several  times  to  look  at  her,  but  there 
was  something  so  shockingly  painful 
in  the  sight  that  she  could  not;  nor 
could  she  speak  until,  having  left 
Washington-street,  she  found  herself 
in  more  comparative  quiet.  Then 
the  officer  asked : 

"What    had   we   better   do   with 
her,  ma'am  ?     Perhaps  if  you  would 


16      ERNEST;  OR,  xo  HUMBUG. 

speak  to  her  it  might  not  scare  her 
quite  so  much." 

Mrs.  Tilton  made  a  great  effort, 
and,  putting  out  her  hand,  said, 
"Yes,  I  will;  but  it  is  so  shocking; 
poor  child,  who  can  she  be  ?  I  never 
saw  such  a  dreadful  sight." 

"  I  don't  know  just  what  to  think ; 
I  don't  know  what  she  had  been  do- 
ing at  first  to  draw  the  crowd,  but 
you  will  find  out  best,  ma'am;  I 
scare  her." 

Mrs.  Tilton  had  laid  her  hand  upon 
the  little  one  which  the  officer  was 
still  holding.  "  Let  me  take  them  in 
mine,"  she  said. 

There  was  something  on  the  instant 
in  the  touch  of  the  human  hand  that 
dispelled  her  dread  of  the  child. 
She  drew  her  from  the  man,  and 
without  saying  a  word,  sat  her  on 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       17 

the  cushion  beside  her ;  all  the  time 
those  strange  dark  eyes  never  moving 
from  their  intense  gaze  on  her  face. 

"Poor  little  thing,"  she  said,  very 
gently,  as  she  put  back  a  lock  of  the 
hair  which  had  fallen  over  her  face. 
"  I  am  very  sorry  for  you.  Are  you 
hurt  anywhere?" 

The  child  drew  a  long,  almost  con- 
vulsive breath,  and  shivered,  but  did 
not  answer. 

"  Don't  be  frightened ;  no  one  shall 
hurt  you.  There,  now,  be  quiet  un- 
til you  get  all  over  it,  and  then  you 
shall  tell  me  where  you  are  hurt. 
Did  you  fall  and  strike  your  head  ?" 
Mrs.  Tilton  lifted  a  mass  of  hair  off 
from  her  forehead  and  disclosed  an 
ugly  looking  wound. 

"That  was  not  done  to-day,"  said 
the  policeman ;  "  only  it  has  never  had 


18      ERNEST;  OK,  xo  HUMBUG. 

any  care  taken  of  it.  The  condition 
of  some  of  these  vagrant  children  is 
awful,  ma'am,  very  awful.  You  ladies 
read  about  them  in  books,  but  we 
police  officers  see  them,  and  it  is  a 
different  thing.  Now  I  feel  sure  this 
comes  from  some  blow  which  the 
child  has  received  from  an  angry  par- 
ent, her  mother  as  like  as  not." 

"  She's  dead,"  said  the  child,  speak- 
ing suddenly.  "They  carried  her 
away." 

"All  the  worse;  she  is  left  with 
some  one  who  abuses  her,  and  there 
is  less  hope  in  this  case.  Where  do 
you  live  ?" 

Not  a  word  in  reply. 

"Where  do  you  live?"  asked  the 
lady,  very  kindly. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  Who  do  you  live  with  ?" 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.       19 

"The  old  woman." 

"What  does  she  do?" 

No  answer. 

"  This  is  a  blind  matter,"  said  the 
officer ;  "  the  probability  is  that  she 
does  not  know  where  she  lives,  or 
with  whom,  though  she  would  find 
her  way  back  again  like  a  cat  or  a 
dog  if  she  were  turned  loose.  If  she 
is  not  hurt  in  any  way  perhaps  this 
would  be  the  best  way  of  settling  the 
matter,"  and  he  began  to  bend  her 
arms  and  limbs  to  see  if  any  bones 
were  broken.'  But  as  this  called  forth 
another  scream,  and  arrested  the  at- 
tention of  the  passers  by,  Mrs.  Tilton 
said: 

"  I  do  not  think  she  is  hurt,  but 
she  is  certainly  in  a  very  deplorable 
state.  I  see  nothing  better  to  do 

with   her  than  to  take   her  to  the 
2 


20       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

home  for  destitute  children  in 

street.  The  matron  is  noted  for  all 
that  is  kind  and  good ;  besides,  she  is 
used  to  these  children,  and  will  find 
out  the  truth  much  sooner  than  either 
you  or  I.  If  you  will  allow  me  to 
take  the  charge  of  her  I  will  put  you 
down  anywhere  you  say,  give  you 
my  card  and  number,  and  if  you  feel 
any  responsibility  you  can  call  at  any 
time  at  our  house  and  make  in- 
quiries." 

"  Very  well,  ma'am,  that  seems  to 
me  an  excellent  idea.  You  ladies 
don't  frighten  little  folks  as  we  do. 
I  will  get  out  here.  I  know  ( Aunty 
May,'  as  the  children  call  her,  very 
well.  I  am  at  the  Asylum  office,  and 
she  will  know  Amos  Foster,  if  you 
will  please  to  mention  me,  ma'am." 

"That  I  will  do.     Thank  you  for 


EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.       21 

your  kindness  to  the  child  and  confi- 
dence in  me.  Here  is  my  card." 

"  O,  I  know  your  house,  ma'am," 
said  the  man,  laughing ;  "  there  is  no 
man  in  Boston,  in  a  public  office,  who 
don't  know  where  Mr.  William  Til- 
ton  lives.  We  all  think  too  much  of 
him  for  that." 

"Then  you  can  hear  from  your 
charge  at  any  time." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  I  know  it  will  all  be 
safe  and  proper ;  but  it's  my  business 
to  inquire,  I  suppose,"  and  touching 
his  hat  again,  the  officer  left. 

"Now,"  said  Mrs.  Tilton  as  the 
carriage  started  again,  "  you  are  going 
to  be  a  quiet,  good  little  girl,  and  I 
will  take  you  to  a  nice  new  home 
where  there  are  a  great  many  little 
boys  and  girls  like  you,  and  a  good, 
kind  aunty  who  loves  them  all.  We 


22       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

will  put  this  shawl  on  so  as  to  cover 
up  your  hair,  and  by  and  by  we  will 
have  it  fixed  nice  and  neatly.  You 
will  like  that,  wont  you  ?" 

"Mother  did,"  said  the  child. 

"  How  long  has  your  mother  been 
dead?" 

"  Last  week  they  carried  her  away." 

"  Where  is  your  father  ?" 

"He  died  too." 

"  Both  dead  !  then  you  are  truly  a 
little  orphan,  and  belong  to  the  Or- 
phan Asylum.  Have  you  no  friends 
living,  no  one  to  take  care  of  you  3" 

"I  don't  know." 

"  Was  the  woman  kind  to  you  that 
your  mother  left  you  with  ?" 

"  She  did  not  leave  me,  she  died," 
repeated  the  child. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?" 

"Rachel." 


ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG.       23 

"Rachel  what?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

Then  the  eyes  looked  wilder  and 
more  frightened,  and  Mrs.  Tilton  saw 
it  was  best  not  to  make  inquiries  her- 
self, but  to  leave  them  for  a  more  ex- 
perienced hand ;  so  she  sat  still  until 
they  reached  the  Asylum. 

This  was  a  plain  brick  building  in 

street,  quite  distinguishable  from 

all  the  others  in  the  block  by  its 
great  simplicity.  The  very  bricks  of 
which  it  was  built  had  a  faded,  worn- 
out  look,  as  if,  being  second  hand,  or 
in  some  way  worthless,  they  had  been 
chiefly  appropriated  to  charity.  It 
was  four  stories  high,  but  not  a  blind 
shut  in  its  numerous  windows,  and 
the  framework  of  both  doors  and 
windows,  instead  of  being  stone,  as  is 
commonly  used,  was  made  of  wood, 


24       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

without  an  ornament.  The  steps, 
wooden  and  unpainted,  separated  this 
house  from  all  the  others ;  indeed,  no 
one  who  entered  the  street  in  search 
of  the  Asylum  would  have  needed  to 
make  an  inquiry  ;  the  very  outside  of 
the  house  told  its  appropriation. 
There  was  one  thing,  however,  which 
even  there  gave  the  visitor  courage 
and  hope:  the  plain  white  window- 
shades,  which  hung  at  every  window, 
were  white  as  the  driven  snow,  and 
made  some  of  the  heavily  embroid- 
ered lace  and  muslin  ones  in  the 
neighboring  houses  look  like  tawdry 
finery  in  comparison. 

Before  this  house  Mrs.  Tilton's 
carriage  stopped,  and  she  was  about 
getting  out,  when  a  scream  of  terror, 
and  the  tight  clinging  of  the  child  to 
her,  prevented  her  moving. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       25 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Kachel  ?"  she 
said ;  "  no  one  shall  hurt  you.  I  am 
going  to  take  you  to  a  nice,  pleasant 
home,  where  they  will  be  very  kind 
to  you." 

"  No,  no,  I  wont ;  I  want  to  stay 
with  you." 

"  Poor  little  thing  I"  and  Mrs.  Til- 
ton  found  herself  taking  the  child,  all 
ragged  and  dirty  as  she  was,  into  her 
lap.  "I  will  come  and  see  you  to- 
morrow, and  bring  you  a  nice  cake  if 
you  will  be  good  and  quiet  now,  and 
come  in  to  good,  kind  Aunty  May." 

But  no  persuasion  would  induce 
Rachel  to  move,  or  to  lessen  her  hold 
in  the  least ;  she  made  no  answer,  but 
rolled  her  eyes  in  the  same  frightful 
way. 

"Ring  the  bell,  and  ask  if  the 
matron  can  step  to  the  carriage,"  said 


26       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUO. 

Mrs.  Tilton,  in  much  perplexity. 
John  obeyed ;  a  pleasant  looking  child 
opened  the  door,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes the  matron  came  out,  and  the 
coachman  explained  what  was  want- 
ed. With  a  smile  she  ran  down  to 
the  carriage  ;  but  the  smile  left  her 
when  she  saw  the  child. 

"Poor  little  dear!"  she  said;  "I 
have  seen  a  great  many  of  them ;  but 
she  is  in  such  a  condition.  Do  you 
know  her  name  ?" 

"She  says  it  is  Rachel.  Now, 
Rachel,  this  is  dear  Aunty  May.  I 
want  you  to  go  home  with  her  and 
see  all  the  other  little  children  she 
has." 

Rachel  dropped  her  head  upon 
Mrs.  Tilton's  velvet  cloak;  but  she 
did  so  without  being  reproved  or 
moved. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       27 

"You  come  with  her,"  said  the 
matron ;  "  she  will  soon  become 
reconciled  when  she  sees  them  all." 

There  was  no  way  but  for  Mrs.  Til- 
ton  to  carry  her  in,  in  her  arms ;  any 
attempt  to  take  her  from  her  must 
have  been  by  force,  and  she  dreaded 
to  hear  those  screams  again.  So  -she 
got  out  of  the  carriage,  and  with  Ra- 
chel clinging  tightly  around  her . 
neck,  carried  her  in.  For  some  time 
any  move  to  separate  or  change  her 
from  this  position  proved  unavailing. 
They  were  now  in  the  great,  bare, 
cheerless  looking  parlor,  so  the  mat- 
ron proposed  they  should  go  up  into 
the  children's  room ;  but  she  said  de- 
cidedly, though  kindly,  that  Rachel 
must  walk.  With  gentle  force  she 
disengaged  her  arms  from  Mrs.  Til- 
ton's  neck  and  placed  her  on  the 


28       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

floor.  "I  am  sorry,"  she  said,  "to 
take  her  among  the  others  until  she 
is  washed  and  dressed ;  they  will  not 
be  as  kind  to  her  while  she  looks 
so.  Rachel,  don't  you  wish  to  be 
made  all  nice  and  clean,  and  have  on 
some  whole  clothes  before  you  see  my 
little  children  ?" 

"  Mother  did,"  said  Rachel,  looking 
up  with  an  eager,  imploring  look  in 
the  matron's  face. 

"  Yes,  so  she  did ;  she  was  a  kind 
mother,  and  if  little  Rachel  is  good, 
God  will  take  her  some  day  to  live 
always  with  dear  mother  in  heaven." 

"I  want  to  go  now,"  said  Rachel, 
with  her  lip  trembling. 

"Not  just  now  we  will  wait  until 
God  sends  his  angels  for  you.  Now 
we  will  come  and  get  mother's  nice 
little  Rachel  all  back  again.  Mother 


ERNEST ;    OR,    NO   HUMBUG.         29 

does  not  know  her,  when  she  looks 
down  for  her  from  that  beautiful 
heaven  where  she  is  gone,  because 
she  is  so  ragged  and  so  dirty.  We 
will  have  her  child  all  nice  and  neat 
for  her,  wont  we  ?  Come  with  Aunty 
May,  and  then  you  shall  come  back 
and  see  this  good  lady  when  you  are 
mother's  little  girl." 

Rachel  put  her  hand,  without  an 
instant's  hesitation,  into  that  of  the 
matron,  and  went  with  her,  Mrs.  Til- 
ton  having  consented  to  remain  until 
her  return.  She  was  gone  for  some 
time,  "an  interval  which  the  good 
visitor  employed  in  looking  around 
on  the  bare  walls  and  desolate  room, 
and  determining  that  before  another 
week  had  passed  some  new  furniture 
should  give  it  a  more  cheerful  and 
inviting  look. 


30       ERKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

What  a  different  child  it  was  that 
Aunty  May  brought  back.  She  had 
been  washed.  Her  long,  dark  hair, 
which  had  looked  only  like  a  tan- 
gled, neglected  mass,  that  could  never 
come  into  order,  was  curled  down 
over  her  neck  in  profuse  and  beauti- 
ful ringlets ;  her  eyes  had,  in  a  meas- 
ure, lost  their  wild,  strange  look,  but 
were  still  large  and  singular.  The 
wound  upon  her  forehead  had  a 
patch  crossed  over  it,  which  gave  to 
her  whole  face  a  most  singular  ex- 
pression; and  the  dress,  which  was 
one  that  had  been  outgrown  "by  one 
of  the  Asylum  children,  did  not  fit 
her,  but  being  both  long  and  large, 
hid  the  delicate,  slender  child  almost 
like  a  mantle. 

"We  have  nothing  that  will  fit 
her,"  said  the  matron  apologetically ; 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       31 

"but  if  she  is  to  stay  with  us  we 
shall  have  clothes  made  for  her  di- 
rectly :  she  is  at  least  clean  now." 

"  Do  you  learn  anything  new  about 
her  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Tilton,  taking  her 
once  more  in  her  lap. 

"No;  I  think  she  is  an  orphan, 
whose  parents  must  have  died  sud- 
denly, leaving  her  entirely  unpro- 
vided for.  The  way  in  such  cases  is, 
I  suppose,  to  procure  her  a  right  to 
be  admitted  here.  If  she  has  friends, 
they  will  certainly  find  her  out;  if 
she  has  not,  she  can  remain  here  until 
we  find  her  a  good  home." 

"  In  the  mean  time  I  will  pay  for  a 
new  suit  of  clothes  for  her,  and,  that 
you  may  have  no  trouble  with  the 
managers,  for  her  board  until  some- 
thing is  decided."  Mrs.  Tilton  handed 
a  sum  of  money  sufficient  for  these 


32       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

purposes  to  the  matron,  and  renew- 
ing her  promise  to  Rachel  to  come 
soon  and  bring  her  the  promised 
cake,  she  saw  her  carried,  without 
resistance,  to  the  room  where  the 
children  were  assembled,  and  then 
took  her  leave. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       33 


CHAPTEE  II. 

ERNEST   PROTECTS    RACHEL. 

AUNTY  MAY  and  Rachel  went  up 
a  long  flight  of  stairs,  covered  with 
gay  oil  carpeting,  and  stopping  for  a 
moment  in  a  small,  dark  entry,  Aunty 
May  kissed  the  child,  and  whispered, 
"  Don't  be  afraid,  darling,  the  chil- 
dren will  all  love  you."  She  opened 
the  door.  Such  a  chorus  of  voices  as 
at  once  saluted  them : 

"  Aunty  has  come  !"  "  Here  is 
aunty!"  "Aunty!  aunty!" 

One  would  have  thought,  that  from 
the  reception  she  met,  the  good  lady 
had  been  on  a  voyage  round  the  world, 
and  had  but  just  returned.  Then 


34       ERNEST;  OR,  xo  HUMBUG. 

came  a  rush  of  feet  toward  her,  all 
eager  and  noisy;  but  Aunty  May, 
holding  up  her  finger,  said  gently, 

"Hush,  children;  be  still.  Don't 
you  see  I  have  brought  a  new  little 
sister!  This  is  Rachel,  and  I  want 
you  all  to  be  very  kind  to  her." 

Then  followed  silence,  and  the  eyes 
of  the  twenty -four  children  were 
fixed  on  Rachel,  who  looked  as 
eagerly  at  them,  though  she  tight- 
ened her  hold  for  an  instant  on 
Aunty  May's  hand. 

"  All  go  back,  to  your  seats.  Where 
is  Miss  Camp  ?  Hasn't  she  come 
yet?" 

"No,  ma'am,"  said  a  dozen  voices 
together;  and  there  was  an  imme- 
diate scamper  of  the  little  group  in 
the  direction  of  the  seats. 

"  Thank  you,  children,"  said  Aunty 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.       35 

May,  waiting  until  they  were  back 
in  their  places;  "now  be  very  still 
until  Miss  Camp  comes.  Ernest, 
come  here." 

From  the  front  seat  a  boy,  who  had 
remained  occupied  with  his  slate  and 
pencil  while  the  others  had  rushed 
toward  the  door,  rose  and  came  to 
her.  He  was  a  delicate  boy  of  eight 
years  old,  dressed  in  the  plain  clothes 
furnished  by  the  Asylum,  with  noth- 
ing particular  to  mark  him  from  the 
other  children,  but  a  gentle,  quiet 
way  of  moving,  and  an  eye  so  large 
and  blue  that  it  seemed  as  if  you 
could  never  look  through  it. 

"Ernest,"  said  Aunty  May  in  a 
low  voice,  "  this  little  child  is  a  stran- 
ger, and  she  feels  timid  among  so 
many  she  has  never  seen  before.  I 
want  you  to  take  her  to  your  seat 


36       ERNEST;  OR,  xo  HUMBUG. 

and  draw  pictures  for  her  on  your 
slate.  Will  you?" 

Ernest  held  his  hand  out,  and 
Aunty  May  put  Rachel's  into  it ;  but 
the  boy  showed  more  fear  than  fancy 
for  the  little  girl,  and  the  matron 
saw  a  timid  look  steal  over  his  face 
as  he  said  simply, 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

"You  need  not  be  afraid  of  her; 
she  has  been  hurt ;  that  is  the  reason 
she  has  that  ugly  bit  of  paper  over 
her  forehead.  Her  father  and  mother 
are  both  dead,  and  she  has  been 
brought  here  for  the  present ;  so,  you 
know,  we  must  make  her  very  happy. 
You  will  be  gentle  with  her,  and 
draw  her  some  pretty  pictures ;  won?t 
you  ?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  And  when  Miss  Camp  comes,  if  I 


EBITEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG.       37 

am  out,  you  will  tell  her  her  name  is 
Eachel,  and  she  is  not  to  be  put  in 
any  class  to-day." 

"Yes,  ma'am." 

With  their  hands  in  a  very  stiff 
position,  but  still  together,  the  chil- 
dren went  to  their  seat,  and  before 
Aunty  May  left  the  room  she  saw 
Ernest  busy  drawing  and  Rachel 
watching  him. 

The  room  in  which  the  children 
were  was  usually  called  the  school- 
room of  the  institution,  though  it  was 
the  common  gathering  place  of  the 
children,  where  they  staid  when  not 
at  their  meals  or  in  bed.  It  was  a 
large,  bare  looking  room,  with  white 
walls,  an  uncarpeted  floor,  a  dozen 
benches,  with  wooden  desks  before 
them,  chairs  of  all  sizes  of  smallness 
scattered  around,  and  such  a  variety 


38      ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

of  footstools  of  various  patterns  as  it 
would  have  been  difficult  to  have 
found  anywhere  else.  Four  large 
windows  made  the  room  light  and 
airy ;  and  this  morning,  the  shades  be- 
ing drawn  entirely  up,  the  sun  came 
in,  lit  up  the  bare  walls,  the  white 
floor,  the  wooden  benches,  and  laid 
itself  as  warmly  and  as  lovingly  on 
the  heads  of  the  little  orphan  group 
as  if  God  had  sent  it  with  a  special 
message  of  love  to  them  all. 

It  was  a  singular  looking  room  full 
of  children,  very  unlike  a  common 
school ;  no  one  could  have  mistaken  it 
for  a  moment.  The  varieties  in  their 
age,  from  twelve  to  one ;  the  costume 
alike,  and  yet  in  many  respects  differ- 
ent; the  faces  representing  almost 
every  nation  in  the  world,  and  even 
the  different  attitudes  in  which  they 


EKNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.      39 

sat ;  besides,  these  things,  to  those  who 
knew  that  they  were  orphans  there 
was  something  which  touched  their 
sympathies  in  a  way  very  different 
from  anything  aroused  by  a  common 
school.  Among  all  these  we  may  as 
well  now  single  out  the  four  whose 
early  life  and  history  is  to  form  the 
subject  of  these  books.  First  there 
was  Ernest,  the  boy  whom  Aunty 
May  had  called  to  take  charge  of 
Rachel.  He  was  the  son  of  a  sailor 
who  had  gone  to  sea  some  three  years 
previous  to  the  date  of  our  story,  and 
had  never  been  heard  of  since  he 
kissed  his  wife  and  little  boy  and  bade 
them  good-by  for  a  voyage  to  the 
East  Indies.  There  had  come  back 
reports  of  fearful  storms,  and  wrecks 
being  seen  on  the  coast  around  which 
he  must  have  sailed — stories  which 


40       EKNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

made  the  young  wife  grow  pale  and 
weary  as  she  watched  and  waited  for 
him,  so  weary  that  God  kindly  gave 
to  his  beloved  sleep,  and  little  Ernest 
was  left  to  good  Aunty  May.  Of 
Rachel's  past  we  know  now  as  much 
as  we  shall  ever  be  able  to  learn. 
She  could  not  tell  her  own  history, 
excepting  of  the  death  of  her  par- 
ents, and  no  great  pains  was  ever 
taken  to  ascertain  it,  as  she  was  not 
claimed. 

Christie  is  that  little  white  haired, 
pale-eyed  boy  sitting  under  the  win- 
dow. The  sun  laughs  fall  in  his  face, 
but  not  a  whit  more  merrily  than 
Christie  laughs  back  at  it.  Any  one 
would  know  to  look  at  him  that  his 
heart  was  brim  full  of  mischief  and 
merriment,  that  God  had  made  him  to 
be  happy,  to  be  the  little  bee  that  gath- 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.      41 

ered  its  honey  only  from  flowers.  He 
is  Scotch — that  is,  his  father  and 
mother  were — his  father  is  dead,  his 
mother  has  two  other  children  to 
support ;  she  is  not  strong,  and  is  often 
sick  for  weeks,  sometimes  for  months, 
when  all  the  family  are  dependent 
upon  the  charity  of  others ;  so  they 
have  taken  away  little  Christie,  who 
had  already  began  to  run  out  in  the 
street  and  play  with  anybody  who 
would  play  with  him,  and  sent  him 
to  Aunty  May  until  she  finds  a  new, 
safe  home  for  him.  Everybody  will 
want  Christie.  It  will  be  like  taking 
a  sunbeam  to  their  hearts  and  houses. 
Back  in  the  corner,  with  a  large  old 
shawl  rolled  up  so  as  to  make  a  baby 
of  it,  sits  a  little  girl  all  by  herself. 
How  old  she  looks !  and  how  de- 
formed. She  has  had  spine  disease, 


42       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

and  now  one  shoulder  is  raised  far 
above  the  other ;  her  head  is  on  one 
side,  and  her  features  are  pale  and 
pinched.  No  one  will  ever  want  poor 
little  Faith,  for,  as  you  see  her  now, 
she  promises  to  bring  nothing  but 
misery  and  "care  wherever  she  goes. 
There  is  a  ray  of  sunlight  creeping 
toward  her  over  the  top  of  the  old 
brown  desk;  but  Faith  shuts  her 
eyes  lightly,  hugs  her  baby  closer  to 
her,  and  turns  away  from  it.  The 
brightness  makes  her  poor  weak  eyes 
and  head  ache  so  she  feels  almost  an- 
gry at  it  as  it  has  come  creeping  up. 
She  wanted  to  see  Nab,  whom  she 
had  coaxed  away  from  Jenny  Turner 
after  a  hard  struggle.  She  wanted 
to  love  her,  and  fix  that  soiled  bit  of 
pink  ribbon  into  another  knot  of  a 
bow  around  Nab's  neck,  and  now 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.      43 

there  was  the  hateful  sun,  and  her 
head  and  her  eyes  ached ;  and  so,  while 
Ernest  and  Rachel  were  busy  with 
their  pictures  on  their  slates,  and 
Christie  was  basking  in  the  sun,  as 
full  of  life  and  love  and  joy  as  his 
heart  could  be,  poor  Faith  laid  her 
thin,  wan  cheek  impatiently  down  on 
the  hard  desk,  and  two  tears,  tears  of 
anger  and  sickness  and  sorrow,  stole 
down  her  cheeks ;  and  yet  these  chil- 
dren are  all  God's  children,  belong- 
ing to  the  same  world  which  he  has 
made  for  them  and  for  so  many, 
many  others,  with  the  same  blue  sky 
over  their  heads,  the  same  sun,  and 
flowers,  and  sweet  singing  birds,  the 
same  power  of  tears  and  smiles,  of 
being  happy  or  miserable,  of  being 
good  children  and  coming  one  day  to 
dwell  with  him  forever,  where  there 


44       ERNEST;  OR,  xo  HUMBUG. 

are  no  more  orphans,  but  he  is  the 
Father  of  them  all. 

Aunty  May  had  not  been  gone 
long  from  the  room  before  Silas  Carr, 
the  oldest  and  worst  child  in  the 
asylum,  moved  his  seat  out  from  one 
of  the  back  benches  to  a  chair,  where 
he  could  sit  and  stare  fully  in  Ra- 
chel's face.  For  some  time  both  the 
children  were  so  busy,  Ernest  in 
drawing  ships,  and  Rachel  in  watch- 
ing him,  that  they  did  not  take  any 
notice  of  Silas;  but  before  long, 
drawn  by  that  power  which  the  eyes 
have  when  they  gaze  steadily  at  you, 
Rachel  looked  up,  and  no  sooner  did 
she  do  so  than  Silas  made  up  a  very 
ugly  face  at  her.  Rachel  could  not 
turn  her  eyes  from  him  now,  and  he 
continued  making  them  worse  and 
worse  every  moment,  until  her  angry 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       45 

motions  made  Ernest  stop  as  he  was 
putting  the  last  sail  to  his  ship,  and 
look  up  too.  He  saw  Silas,  and  saw 
at  the  same  time  Rachel's  flushed 
face,  and  eyes  wild  with  anger  and 
fear. 

"Stop,  Silas,"  he  said,  "don't  you 
see  you  frighten  her !  Don't  make 
such  awful  faces." 

"  Mind  your  own  business ;  my  face 
is  my  own,  I  guess ;  who  is  she  ?" 

u  Her  name  is  Rachel ;  let  her 
alone,  or  I  will  tell  Aunty  May." 

"  I  aint  touching  her,  Mr.  Tell- 
tale." 

"  But  you  are  plaguing  her." 

Silas  had  now  torn  a  bit  of  paper 
out  of  one  of  the  school-books,  and 
pasting  it  on  his  forehead,  in  the 
place  where  the  patch  was  put  upon 
Rachel,  pulled  his  hair  clown  as  well 


46       EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

as  he  could  to  imitate  her,  and 
mocked  every  motion  she  made,  as, 
growing  more  angry,  she  began  to 
throw  herself  about  in  the  seat. 

"Stop  that,  Silas,"  said  Ernest,  "or 
I'll  call  for  Aunty  May." 

"  Poor  little  baby,  call  her  as  quick 
as  you  have  a  mind  to;  has  to  cry 
for  his  mammy  all  the  time  like  a 
girl.  See  here  now,"  and  he  made  a 
ludicrous  distortion,  which  called  out 
a  bui-st  of  laughter  from  most  of  the 
other  children. 

Ernest  rose  in  his  seat,  and  without 
waiting  an  instant  to  think,  hurled 
his  slate  right  in  Silas's  face.  The 
aim  was  true,  the  force  as  great  as 
the  angry  boy  could  give,  and  strik- 
ing Silas  between  his  eyes,  the  edge 
of  the  wooden  frame  cut  a  gash  ;  then 
it  fell  upon  the  floor,  and  was  shiv- 


ERNEST  ;    OK,   NO    HUMBUG.          4? 

ered  into  pieces.  Silas  uttered  a 
scream,  or  rather  a  howl  of  pain, 
and  springing  on  Ernest,  the  two 
boys  were  in  an  instant  engaged  in 
such  a  hand  to  hand  fight  as  had 
never  taken  place  in  that  school-room 
before.  Rachel  looked  on  a  mo- 
ment, then,  with  the  speed  and  ex- 
pression of  a  tiger,  fastened  on  Silas 
with  her  teeth  and  nails,  and  the 
great  bad  boy  would  have  received 
such  a  punishment  as  had  never 
come  to  him  before  in  his  life  if  the 
noise  had  not  brought  Aunty  May 
quickly  in. 

"  Children,  children,"  she  called,  in 
such  a  shocked,  grieved  tone  that  all 
the  smaller  ones  there  burst  into 
loud  cries,  "  what  are  you  doing  ? 
Stop,  this  minute ;"  and  Rachel  felt 
herself  tightly  grasped  around  the 


48       EKNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

waist,  and  though  she  would  not  re- 
lax her  hold  of  Silas's  hair,  was  drawn 
with  him  out  into  the  middle  of  the 
room.  -Here  it  required  all  the  mat- 
ron's force  to  separate  them.  Never, 
during  the  thirty  years  of  her  life 
here,  had  she  seen  such  a  scene  be- 
fore. Ernest  had  dropped  both  of 
his  hands  at  the  first  sound  of  her 
voice.  Rachel's  terrible  onset  had 
already  quieted  him,  and  he  now 
stood  looking  on  and  .trembling  like 
a  leaf.  It  was  in  reality  but  a  very 
short  time,  but  it  seemed  long  before 
Aunty  May  stood  holding  Silas 
firmly  by  one  hand  and  Rachel  by 
the  other,  but  as  far  apart  as  she 
could  separate  them.  Not  a  word 
did  she  speak,  but  looked  from  one 
to  another  with  such  astern,  command 
ing  look  that  neither  of  these  children 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       49 

ever  forgot  it.  The  blood  was  trick- 
ling down  Silas's  face  from  the  gash 
made  by  the  slate  and  the  scratches 
and  bites  which  Rachel  had  inflicted, 
but  the  temper  in  it  gave  to  his  face 
even  a  worse  look  yet,  it  was  so  ma- 
lignant and  ugly.  Rachel's  breast 
was  heaving,  her  eyes  flashing,  and 
her  teeth  tight  set;  and  so  rigidly 
did  she  hold  on  to  the  hand  with 
which  the  matron  held  her,  that  even 
then  Aunty  May  was  conscious  of 
the  pain  it  gave  her. 

"  Ernest,"  said  Aunty  May,  speak- 
ing first  to  him,  "  what  does  all  this 
mean  ?" 

"  I  threw  my  slate  at  him,  and 
struck  him  between  the  eyes  there," 
said  Ernest,  pointing  with  trembling 
fingers  toward  the  blood-stained  fore- 
head. 


50       ERXEST;  OK,  :>*o  HUMBUG. 

"What  did  he  throw  the  slate  at 
you  for,  Silas?" 

Silas  hung  his  head,  but  made  no 
answer. 

"  Answer,  Silas,"  and  the  firm  hand 
grasped  the  boy's  arm  a  little  more 
firmly,  "  what  did  you  do  ?" 

"  Nothing,"  answered  Silas. 

"  Nothing !  I  know  better.  Tell 
me  the  truth.  What  was  it  ?" 

"  I  did  not  do  anything,"  said  Silas, 
"  you  may  ask  the  children.  He  fired 
the  slate  right  into  my  face,  and  then 
I  meant  to  thrash  him,  to  pay  him 
for  it." 

"  That  is  a  story,  Silas.  I  had  rath- 
er you  would  tell  me  yourself,  but  if 
you  persist  in  net  doing  so,  then  I 
shall  ask  the  others ;  say,  what  was  it  ?" 

"Nothing,  and  they  will  all  tell 
you  so." 


Rachel    Introduced   to   Faith. 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.       53 

"  Children,  what  was  it  ?" 

"  He  made  up  faces  at  her,  and 
many  fingers  were  pointed  toward 
Rachel ;  and  when  Ernest  told  him  to 
stop,  he  called  him  '  tell-tale  and  girl 
baby ;'  and  then  he  put  a  patch  on  to 
mock  her,  and — " 

"  Stop,  children,  that  is  enough.  So, 
Silas,  you  have  been  amusing  your- 
self by  making  this  poor  girl  unhap- 
py, and  now  you  tell  a  falsehood  to 
hide  it." 

"  I  haint  done  nothing,'1  said  Silas 
sulkily,  but  his  eyes  fell  beneath  the 
matron's  steady  gaze. 

"  Stand  where  you  are ;"  and  Aunty 
May  planted  him  in  the  middle  of 
the  room  with  a  force  with  which  he 
could  not  have  withstood,  then  led 
Rachel  to  the  corner  of  the  room 
where  Faith,  still  holding  the  shawl 

4 


54       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

baby,  was  looking  out  from  under  her 
hand  to  the  spot  where  Silas  was 
left  standing. 

"Faith,"  she  said,  "here  is  this 
child  who  does  not  know  how  to 
take  care  of  herself,  and  Ernest,  you 
see,  cannot  help  her.  Let  her  play 
with  your  doll  until  I  come  back ;  I 
shall  not  be  gone  long,  and  if  any 
one  troubles  her  come  right  to  me, 
will  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  aunty,"  said  Faith  in  such 
a  clear,  sweet  voice  that  Rachel 
looked  around  to  see  where  the 
words  could  have  come  from;  they 
sounded  as  if  they  were  far  off,  in- 
stead of  from  the  crooked  child 
beside  her.  She  held  the  baby  to- 
ward Rachel,  but  there  was  nothing 
in  its  uncouth  figure,  or  in  the  shape- 
less, distorted  form  before  her  that 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       55 

attracted  Rachel,  so  without  a  word 
she  ran  back  to  her  former  seat  be- 
side Ernest. 

Aunty  May  hesitated  a  moment, 
but  decided  to  let  her  remain  where 
she  was,  and  going  once  more  to 
Silas,  took  hold  of  his  arm  and  al- 
most dragged  him  out.  This  was  the 
last  the  children  in  the  Asylum  ever 
saw  of  Silas  Carr;  nor  was  the  mat- 
ron disposed  to  answer  the  many 
questions  which  they  asked  about 
him,  so  in  a  short  time  he  was  for- 
gotten. 

Ernest  was  not  easy  when  he  saw 
Rachel  coming  back.  His  slate  lay 
in  pieces  on  the  floor ;  he  had  noth- 
ing now  with  which  to  amuse  her, 
besides  he  was  almost  afraid  of  her.  A 
good  hard  blow  he  could  understand, 
but  to  bite  and  scratch  were  new 


56       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

things  to  him,  and  not  by  any  means 
pleasant;  so  he  moved  off  from  her, 
as  near  to  the  wall  as  he  could,  and 
watched  the  door  anxiously  for 
Aunty  May's  return.  "  Would  she 
punish  him  for  what  he  had  done  ? 
would  she  ever  give  him  another 
slate  ?  would  she  take  away  this  new 
child  who  was  so  fierce  and  ugly  ? 
O  dear,  would  she  never,  never 
come  ?"  Now,  if  Aunty  May  had 
been  anxious  to  select  the  severest 
punishment  she  could  find  for  Ernest 
she  could  hardly  have  chosen  one 
which  would  have  affected  him  more 
than  this  waiting  with  Rachel  so  near 
him.  He  worked  himself  up  into 
such  a  state  of  worry  and  dread  that 
when  she  returned  she  found  him 
pale  and  trembling,  and  needing 
only  a  few  gentle  words  to  come  to 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       57 

a  quick  sense  of  the  wrong  he  had 
done.  Many  a  time  he  had  previ- 
ously been  reproved  for  his  quick 
temper,  but  never  once  that  made  so 
lasting  an  impression  as  now.  Ra- 
chel, with  an  instinctive  feeling  of  his 
fear  of  her,  had  kept  the  seat  she 
had  first  taken  without  moving  near- 
er, but  she  did  not  once  remove  her 
eyes  from  him;  and  when  Aunty 
May  sent  him  to  his  own  room  to 
think  over  what  he  had  done,  and 
ask  God  to  forgive  him,  she  cowered 
down  in  the  corner  he  had  left,  with 
her  chin  leaning  on  the  desk,  and 
her  hands  holding  tightly  on  to  the 
top  of  the  seat  before  her.  Aunty 
May  was  used  to  the  care  of  every 
kind  of  children,  but  it  seemed  to  her, 
as  she  stood  looking  at  Rachel,  as  if 
this  one  belonged  to  a  class  she  had 


58       EKTTEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

never  met  before.  She  tried  to  sub- 
due her  by  the  fixed  loving  look 
which  she  had  never  known  fail  with 
any  one  before;  but  there  was  no 
answering  feeling  in  the  great  glassy 
eyes,  which  never  seemed  to  wink,  or 
turn  away  from  her,  and  she  was 
several  times  reminded  of  what  Mrs. 
Tilton's  coachman  had  told  her  with 
regard  to  her:  "She  acts  and  looks 
more  like  a  crazy  person  than  like  any- 
thing else."  The  truth  was,  Rachel 
was  insane,  but  only  because  she  had 
been  driven  to  this  temporary  mad- 
ness by  the  scenes  through  which  she 
had  passed  since  her  mother's  death. 
Of  a  very  nervous  and  sensitive  tem- 
perament, she  would  have  been  better 
without  losing  her  self-control ;  and 
to-day  we  all  know,  that  from  the 
gathering  of  the  street  crowd  until 


ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG.       59 

the  present  moment,  she  had  passed 
through  enough  to  worry  a  stronger 
and  happier  child  than  poor  little 
Rachel  was  now. 

Finding  it  of  little  use  to  try  to 
draw  her  to  her  with  kind  looks, 
Aunty  May  decided  to  go  on  with 
the  regular  school  exercises,  and 
leave  her  to  herself  until  she  should 
become  quieter,  and  in  this  she  was 
aided  by  Miss  Canip  coming,  and  the 
children  taking  their  places  for  their 
recitation ;  but  before  she  left  them 
she  whispered  once  more  to  Faith, 
who  might  have  been  seen,  soon  after 
the  matron  left  the  room,  coming 
slowly  down  to  the  bench  on  which 
Rachel  sat,  still  holding  Nab  closely 
to  her. 

"  Has  Nab  learned  her  spelling  les- 
son ?"  said  Miss  Camp  pleasantly. 


60      EKKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Faith  smiled ;  it  was  strange  to  see 
how  the  smile  changed  her  sickly 
face  ;  but  Miss  Camp  knew  the  happy 
look  well ;  it  was  one  of  the  rewards 
which  God  gave  her  for  her  self-sac- 
rificing task  of  teaching  these  poor 
orphan  children. 

"Here  is  a  geography,"  she  said, 
putting  down  a  large  book  filled 
with  pictures  between  the  children. 
"  Move  up  a  little  nearer  to  Rachel ; 
put  Nab  between  you,  and  now  see 
which  of  you  three  can  tell  me  the 
most  about  the  pictures  when  I  ask 
you."  Her  hand  rested  for  a  moment 
on  Rachel's  head.  How  stiff  and  im- 
movable it  was.  She  raised  her 
chin,  and  made  Rachel's  eyes  meet 
hers  ;  but  no  change  even  now  came 
over  their  fixed,  stony  look.  Then 
she  bent  down,  patted  her  cheek 


EENEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       61 

fondly,  and  kissed  her  rigid  lips. 
Rachel  drew  a  long  breath. 

"Kiss  me,  little  Rachel,"  she  said 
softly,  "  don't  be  afraid ;  we  all  love 
you  here."  But  no  motion  came  from 
the  lips,  only  the  long  breath  again. 

Miss  Camp  drew  the  child's  head 
down  on  her  shoulder,  and  still  the 
long  breaths,  and  at  last  a  sob,  and 
the  eyes  were  filled  with  tears. 

"  I  wouldn't  cry,  darling,"  and  the 
kind  teacher's  arms  tightened  around 
the  child,  who  now  wept  as  convuls- 
ively as  she  had  before  seemed  cold 
and  hardened.  Miss  Camp  knew  it 
was  the  best  thing  for  her,  so  she 
only  held  her  closer,  and  soothed  her 
gently,  lovingly,  as  the  tenderest 
mother  would ;  and  so  Rachel,  in  the 
school-room  of  the  Orphan  Asylum, 
seemed  almost  in  that  flood  of  tears 


62       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

to  leave  her  old  life,  whatever  it  may 
have  been,  behind  her,  and  enter 
upon  the  new  one  to  which  the  God 
of  the  fatherless  had  in  his  rnercy 
led  her.  When  Aunty  May  came 
back  she  was  sitting,  as  aunty  said, 
"clothed  in  her  right  mind,"  holding 
the  pictured  geography  with  Faith, 
while  Miss  Nab,  between  them,  look- 
ed on  with  her  demure  face  as 
pleased  and  as  intelligent  in  the  eyes 
of  the  children  as  they;  and  Faith, 
while  she  traced  with  her  white,  thin 
fingers  the  choice  beauties  of  the 
pictures,  looked  quite  as  often  for  ap- 
probation at  the  doll  as  she  did  at 
the  stranger  child,  whose  tear-stained 
face  seemed  as  if  it  could  never  smile 
or  look  happy  again. 


EEKEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.      63 


CHAPTER  III. 

EKNEST'S    NEW   FATHER. 

A  WEEK  now  passed  quietly  away 
at  the  Asylum.  Rachel  became  recon- 
ciled much  more  easily  than  Aunty 
May  had  dared  to  hope.  She  at- 
tached herself  to  Ernest  with  an 
affection  both  puzzling  and  trouble- 
some to  the  boy,  who  for  his  part  did 
not  like  her.  He  could  not  forget 
her  first  day  there ;  he  was  afraid  she 
would  become  angry  again,  and  he 
dreaded  to  see  her  look  and  act  as 
she  then  did.  The  patch  was  re- 
moved from  her  forehead,  and  Mrs. 
Tilton  had  brought  her  nice  neat 
suits  of  clothes,  in  which  she  was  the 
finest  looking  child  in  the  Asylum. 


64       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

She  was  gentle,  too,  and  indeed,  as 
the  matron  often  said,  since  she  had 
got  over  her  fright,  showed  in  many 
little  ways  that  she  had  been  well 
brought  up.  She  was  bright  with 
her  books,  seemed  willing  to  do  any- 
thing Miss  Camp  required  of  her, 
and  indeed  there  was  hardly  a  child 
in  the  Asylum  who  gave  so  little  real 
trouble  for  the  time  she  had  been 
there.  There  was  one  thing  which 
was  particularly  pretty  and  touching 
about  her:  the  kindness  and  care 
which  from  the  time  of  their  looking 
over  the  pictures  together  she  showed 
toward  Faith.  If  she  was  ever  rude 
and  angry  it  was  because  some  one 
annoyed  Faith.  If  she  gave  up  her 
apple,  or  her  turn  with  the  plaything, 
it  was  for  Faith.  If  Mrs.  Tilton  gave 
her  anything  nice,  it  was  kept  for 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       65 

Faith.  If  the  cripple  found  the  stairs 
long  and  hard  to  climb,  Rachel's  arm 
was  round  her  helping  her.  If  in 
their  games  it  was  Faith's  turn  to 
take  a  part  which  was  too  rude  or 
active  for  her,  Rachel  was  always  in 
her  place ;  and  so,  before  the  first  week 
was  over,  all  the  children  began  to 
look  upon  her  as  specially  belonging 
to  Faith,  and  answerable  for  her.  It 
was  seeing  this  which  first  made  Er- 
nest overcome  his  dislike  for  her,  and 
begin  to  sit  still,  when  she  came 
where  he  was,  to  sharpen  her  pencil, 
and  draw  ships  for  her  on  the  slate 
which  Aunty  May  had  given  her, 
he  still  being  under  punishment  for 
his  quick  temper  by  having  a  new 
slate  kept  from  him,  and  waiting 
often  for  her  in  the  play-room  that 
they  might  begin  their  games  again. 


66       EEKEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Indeed,  at  the  end  of  this  first 
week,  these  three  children,  Ernest, 
Rachel,  and  Faith,  were  the  three 
upon  whom  Aunty  May  depended 
most  for  helping  her  to  preserve  good 
order  with  the  others.  This  was  no 
new  position,  to  be  sure,  for  Ernest. 
He  had  been  now  a  year  at  the  Asy- 
lum, and  though  Aunty  May  always 
said  he  was  the  best  boy  she  ever 
had  enter,  he  had  steadily  improved 
since,  and,  as  we  have  seen  in  the  case 
of  Rachel,  if  she  ever  wanted  anything 
done  which  required  carefulness  and 
attention,  Ernest  was  always  the  one 
called  upon  to  do  it.  We  are  sorry, 
however,  to  say,  that  he  did  not  al- 
ways acquit  himself  just  in  the  way 
he  had  now ;  and  for  truth's  sake  we 
must  acknowledge  that  his  hasty 
temper  was  his  besetting  sin. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       67 

About  this  time  the  school  was  in- 
terrupted one  day  by  the  sound  of 
heavy  footsteps  coming  up  the  stairs 
that  led  to  the  school-room  with 
Aunty  May.  The  children  all  knew 
her  footsteps;  they  could  tell  them 
anywhere.  Miss  Camp  stopped  the 
lesson  in  ab  when  the  door  opened, 
and  there  entered  the  matron  and  a 
tall,  broad-shouldered  man,  whose 
good-natured  face  sent  a  smile  all 
over  the  room  as  he  looked  down  on 
the  children.  He  was  dressed  in  a 
gray  roundabout  jacket,  with  pants 
of  the  same  color,  and  he  had  under 
his  arm  a  very  shining  black  hat ;  so 
shining,  that  it  seemed  to  Christie, 
who  sat  nearest  him,  almost  like  a 
looking-glass,  and  he  climbed  up, 
trying  to  see  his  chubby  face  in  it. 
The  man  noticed  him,  lifted  him 


68       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

in  his  arms,  and  put  the  hat  on  his 
little  round  head.  Down  it  went, 
over  eyes,  nose,  and  chin,  until  noth- 
ing was  seen  but  Christie's  shoulders, 
and  then  came  bursts  of  laughter 
from  all  over  the  room,  none  louder 
or  more  hearty  than  those  from 
under  the  hat,  and  from  the  great 
man  who  held  him. 

"Too  big,  my  little  fellow,"  said 
the  man ;  "  you  wouldn't  do  to  wear 
a  sailor's  tarpaulin  yet,  would  you? 
But  never  mind,  you  haven't  done 
growing,  and  you  may  be  captain 
yet  for  all  that  we  can  tell.  Nice 
boy,"  he  said,  holding  him  at  arms' 
length,  and  looking  closely  at  him. 
"  Scotch  every  inch  of  him ;  now  isn't 
he?" 

"  Yes,  his  parents  are  Scotch." 

"  Dead  ?" 


EKKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       69 

"His  father  is,  but  his  mother  is 
living,  and  he  has  a  little  brother  and 
sister." 

"Stick  to  them,  then,  my  boy. 
Don't  be  giving  him  away,  no  matter 
how  much  folks  may  want  him.  His 
mother  has  the  right  to  him,  and  one 
day  he  will  be  a  comfort  to  her,  or 
his  face  don't  tell  a  true  tale.  I 
wouldn't  part  them  for  the  world." 

"  I  am  going  to  build  her  a  house, 
and  buy  her  some  apples  and  some 
coal,  and — and — lots  of  things,"  said 
Christie,  looking  up  archly  in  the 
stranger's  face. 

"  That's  right,  my  boy ;  honor 
your  father  and  your  mother ;  you 
know  who  said  that,  don't  you  ? 
Well,  now,  if  the  great  God  has 
taken  your  father  he  means  you 
shall  honor  your  mother  just  twice 


*70       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

as  much ;  so  stick  to  it,  little  fellow, 
and  one  day  you'll  be  a  comfort  to 
her,  and  this  bit  of  a  hand  that  isn't 
any  larger  than  my  thumb  " — and  he 
laid  the  hand  out  flat  on  his  large 
thumb  (it  just  covered  it) — u  will  be 
bringing  her  a  world  of  comfort. 
Couldn't  touch  him  if  his  mother 
prayed  to  me  to  take  him ;  it  would 
be  against  the  dispensations  of  Provi- 
dence, that  is  clear  to  me ;  but  my 
heart  goes  out  to  him,  and  so  would 
mother's ;  and  as  for  little  Ally,  why 
it  would  be  like  having  a  pair  of 
birds  in  the  house,  they  would  sing 
so  sweet  from  morning  to  night. 
But  it  can't  be ;  no,  matron,  it  isn't 
right;  a  mother  is  a  mother,  and 
while  God  spares  her  her  child  is 
her  own ;  but  you  shall  come  and  see 
me,  my  boy,  and  I  will  give  you  a 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       71 

nice  sail  in  the  little  boat.  We  will 
go  way  down  to  the  light-house,  and 
Ally  shall  go  too;  won't  that  be 
nice  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Christie;  "but  I 
am  going  to  be  a  man  and  sail  in  my 
own  boats.  Ernest  draws  them  for 
me,  and  I  know  which  the  foresail  is 
already." 

"  You  do,  eh  ?  "Well  you  are  a 
nice  little  fellow,  and  there  is  nothing 
I  should  like  better  than  to  put  you 
in  my  pocket  and  take  you  home  to 
mother  and  Ally;  but  I  can't,  you 
see  I  can't,  don't  you  ?" 

"  I  am  going  home  to  my  mother 
when  I  am  a  big  boy  and  can  work 
hard  ;  then  we'll  have  brave  times." 

"  Brave  times  '(  so  you  will ;  and 
I'll  look  you  up,  you  see  if  I  don't. 
I  am  loth  to  leave  you,  but  it's  for 


72       EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

your  mother's  sake."  So  saying,  he 
put  Christie  down  and  walked  on  to 
the  upper  part  of  the  room. 

Aunty  May  was  disappointed. 
She  had  not  thought  of  his  fancying 
Christie  when  they  came  in  —  she 
had  brought  him  to  see  Ernest — but 
as  he  did  so,  she  hoped  Christie  had 
found  the  good  home  which  the  let- 
ter the  sailor  brought  promised  in 
more  than  usually  satisfactory  terms, 
and  she  had  seen  so  much  of  home- 
less children  in  her  long  experience 
that  she  knew  those  who  are  left  for 
a  feeble  mother  to  care  for  are  often 
those  who  need  one  most.  Ernest 
she  did  not  wish  to  lose ;  not  that  she 
would  stand  for  an  instant  in  the 
way  of  his  future,  but  that  she  loved 
the  boy  and  clung  to  him.  She 
knew  his  being  a  sailor's  orphan 


ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG.       73 

would  be  a  great  recommendation  to 
one  who  followed  the  sea;  besides 
the  boy  himself  showed  such  decided 
tastes  for  a  ship,  that  she  had  little 
doubt  what  he  would  choose  to  do 
when  he  grew  old  enough  to  make  a 
choice.  Her  judgment  told  her  that 
this  was  a  rare  opportunity  for  him. 
"  Captain  Lee  was  a,  Christian  gentle- 
man," so  the  letter  said ;  "  his  wife 
one  of  the  best  of  women,  and  his 
only  child,  little  Alice,  as  sweet  a 
child  as  the  sun  ever  shone  on." 
What  could  Aunty  May  ask  more 
for  this  orphan  boy.  Still  it  was 
with  a  tear  in  her  eye  and  a  throb  of 
pain  at  her  heart  that  she  called 
Ernest  out  from  the  little  group 
which  surrounded  him. 

This  was  a  scene  which  was  taking 
place  every  day;    and   nothing  was 


74       ERISTEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

more  common  in  the  Asylum  than 
for  benevolent  people,  who  had  the 
heart  and  the  means,  to  come  and 
choose  from  among  the  orphans  one 
who,  in  some  way,  touched  their 
hearts.  It  was  what  Aunty  May 
expected ;  indeed,  it  was  what  she 
wished,  and  yet  it  was  very  seldom 
that  she  parted- from  a  child  with- 
out pain. 

Ernest  came  to  her,  his  handsome, 
manly  face  filled  with  interest  in  the 
pleasant  stranger  who  had  been  talk- 
ing so  kindly  to  Christie. 

"  That  is  the  boy  about  whom  I 
was  speaking  to  you,"  she  said,  laying 
her  hand  fondly  on  his  head. 

Captain  Lee  did  not  take  him  up 
as  he  had  Christie ;  but  he  said : 

"And  you  are  the  boy  whose  fa- 
ther was  a  brave  sailor,  and  went 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       75 

away,  with  God  to  take  care  of  him, 
on  the  great  ocean  ?" 

uYes,  sir,"  said  Ernest,  looking 
steadily  at  him. 

"  So  do  I  go.  I  go  very  often  way, 
way  off.  I  have  a  ship,  and  I  call 
her  the  Sea  Bird ;  and  when  I  go  on 
board  of  her,  and  we  take  up  the 
anchor,  and  hoist  our  sails,  mother  and 
Ally  don't  see  me  for  a  great  many, 
many  days.  Some  day,  perhaps, 
God  may  want  me  too,  and  I  may 
never  come  back  again.  Should  you 
like  to  go  home  with  me  and  take 
care  of  them  while  I  am  gone,  and  be 
there  with  them  if  they  look  and  look 
for  me,  as  your  mother  did  for  your 
father,  and  I  don't  come?  Should 
you  like  to  be  a  sailor's  son  again  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Ernest  without  a 
moment's  hesitation. 


76       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

"That's  right;"  and  now  Captaiu 
Lee  took  the  boy's  hand  in  his. 
"  You  will  come  home  with  me  then, 
and  you  shall  sail  in  my  boats,  and — 
but  that  don't  matter  much;  we  will 
love  you,  little  Ernest,  and  you  shall 
be  my  boy,  and  mother's  boy,  and 
Ally's  own  brother.  Wont  that  be 
nice?  Ally  is  the  sweetest  little 
girl  in  all  the  world.  Father  and 
mother  both  think  so.  Aint  that 
strange  ?" 

"  Where  am  I.  to  go  ?"  Ernest  asked, 
looking  from  Aunty  May  back  to 
Captain  Lee.  „ 

"Over  to  Nelson's  Island.  Don't 
know  it  on  your  map,  do  you  ? 
Well,  it's  not  very  big,  but  it's  large 
enough  for  Uncle  Seth  and  his  wife 
and  four  boys,  and  me  and  mother 
and  our  Ally ;  and  then  there  is 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.      77 

other  folks  coining  down  more  of 
them  every  year,  and  they  put  up 
pretty  little  houses  there,  and  call 
them  sea-bunks." 

"Yes,  sir,5'  said  Ernest,  waiting  to 
hear  more. 

But  Captain  Lee  had  dropped  his 
hand,  and  was  now  engaged  in  an 
earnest  conversation  with  the  matron. 
Whatever  he  was  asking  the  matron 
was  objecting  to.  The  two  left  the 
room  together,  and  it  was  more  than 
an  hour  before  they  came  back. 
When  they  did,  Aunty  May's  eyes 
were  red  with  weeping,  and  the  chil 
dren  no  sooner  saw  this  than  they 
knew  that  some  one  of  them  was  to 
leave  her.  Who  was  it?  Many  a 
young  heart  beat  faster,  and  a  fright- 
ened look  came  over  the  orphans' 
faces.  Going  from  her  was  leaving  a 


78       EKKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

mother,  leaving  a  dear  home,  one 
which  most  of  them,  go  where  they 
might,  never  forgot. 

"Ernest,"  said  Aunty  May.  Er- 
nest came  to  her.  "This  kind  man, 
Captain  Lee,  wants  to  take  you 
home  with  him  to  be  his  own  lit- 
tle boy.  He  will  be  very  good  to 
you,  and  you  will  have  a  mother, 
and  a  dear  little  sister,  and  a  nice 
home  for  the  rest  of  your  life.  Will 
you  go?" 

Ernest  looked  for  one  moment  tear- 
fully into  her  eyes ;  then  he  went  up 
to  Captain  Lee,  and,  putting  his  hand 
into  his,  said  simply : 

"  If  you  please,  sir." 

"  Bravo,  my  little  fellow,"  and  the 
sailor  bent  down  and  gave  him  a  loud, 
hearty  kiss.  "  I  do  please,  and,  with 
God's  blessing,  we  will  sail  this  ocean 


EEKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.      79 

of  life  side  by  side,  and  we  will  pray 
too,  every  day,  that  we  may  come 
into  the  same  port  at  last.  It  is  the 
Lord's  doings,"  he  said,  looking  at 
Aunty  May.  "Now  if  the  boy  had 
been  in  the  least  unwilling,  or  cling- 
ing to  you  here,  I  couldn't  have 
taken  him,  no  matter  how  much  I 
had  wished  to ;  but  it's  truly  marvel- 
ous how  He  steers  our  rudder  for  us. 
Now,  if  you  are  willing,  and  can  just 
give  him  a  cap,  it  is  all  I  want.  I 
will  send  the  clothes  back  for  some 
other  homeless  "little  one,  and  I  will 
take  him  and  have  him  fixed  up  right 
smart  for  mother  and  Ally.  How 
pleased  they  .will  be !" 

Ernest  would  be  ready  soon. 
Aunty  May  could  not  part  with  him 
quite  so  abruptly ;  she  had  much  she 
wanted  to  say  to  him ;  she  must  say 


80       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

her  good-by  alone,  with  no  other  eye 
but  God's  upon  them ;  and  so  Captain 
Lee  promised  to  call  in  an  hour,  and 
patting  Christie,  told  him  to  be  a 
good  boy,  take  care  to  grow  fast,  and 
when  he  was  large  enough  to  go  to 
sea  to  come  to  him  and  he  would 
take  him  out  in  the  Sea  Bird,  and 
give  him  good  wages  to  lay  up  for 
the  poor  mother  at  home;  to  all  of 
which  Christie  answered  with  a  hap- 
py, ringing  laugh,  which  the  sailor 
heard  long  after  he  was  out  in  the 
noisy  street. 

At  the  end  of  the  hour  there  was  a 
ling  at  the  door-bell,  and,  not  doubt- 
ing who  it  was,  Aunty  May  kissed 
and  blessed  the  boy  over  and  over 
again,  and  Ernest  clinging  to  her,  felt 
that  he  would  never,  never  leave 
her,  or  if  he  must,  he  would  soon 


81 

come  back  and  live  with  her  there 
forever.  Captain  Lee  had  a  new 
suit  of  clothes,  cap,  overcoat,  and  all, 
and  finding  they  would  fit  Ernest  nice- 
ly, he  insisted  that  they  should  be 
put  upon  him,  and  the  others  re- 
turned to  the  Asylum  for  future  use. 
What  a  different  looking  boy  he  was 
when  he  came  back  with  the  Scotch 
cap  and  .the  trimmed  clothes,  and 
how  quickly  Captain  Lee's  face  con- 
veyed the  pleasure  which  the  sight 
gave  him  to  the  matron. 

"Do  not  spoil  him,"  she  said  as 
she  saw  it.  "  Nothing  is  easier  or 
more  common.  Save  this  boy — " 

"  God  help  us,  mother  and  I,  to  do 
our  best,"  said  he  solemnly;  and  so 
the  orphan  Ernest  became  Captain 
Lee's  son,  and  went  out  with  him  to 
his  new  home. 


82       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

The  children  in  the  Asylum  are 
seldom  allowed  to  go  in  the  street. 
They  have,  for  the  most  part,  abund- 
ance of  play  and  fresh  air  in  the 
large  airy  rooms  at  home  ;  so  now, 
when  Earnest  found  himself  out  of 
doors,  dressed  in  his  handsome  new 
clothes,  he  felt  as  if  he  was  suddenly 
carried  into  a  new  world,  and  he  hard- 
ly heard  the  captain's  good  hearty, 
"Here  you  are,  my  boy,  out  in  the 
world  with  your  father,  and  a  good 
father  he  will  be  to  you  as  long  as 
he  lives.  We  must  love  each  other, 
little  one,  and  mother  and  Ally  too, 
wont  we?" 

"Yes,  sir."  But  at  this  moment 
Ernest's  eyes  were  riveted  upon  the 
home  he  had  just  left.  There  were 
tiers  of  small  faces,  one  above  the 
other,  pressed  into  the  windows  of 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       83 

the  school-room,  all  looking  after  him 
as  he  went. 

"Ay,  yes,  there  they  are,  sure 
enough.  Get  up  on  my  shoulder, 
where  you  can  see  them  better.  Now 
take  off  your  cap  and  wave  it  to 
them,  so,"  and  the  sailor  lifted  his  tar- 
paulin and  gave  it  three  swings 
around  his  head.  Ernest,  however, 
did  not  follow  his  example,  for  at 
that  window  he  only  saw  two  faces ; 
one  was  the  pale  thin  face  of  poor 
little  Faith,  with  such  a  sad  look, 
and  the  other  EacheFs,  full  of  sor- 
row too;  but  how  large  and  bright 
her  eyes  were,  and  how  they  seemed 
to  come  near  to  him  and  to  say  over 
and  over,  "  Good-by,  don't  go,  good- 
by." 

"  Good-by,"  cheerily  shouted  the 
captain ;  "  Good-by,"  faintly  echoed 


84      EEKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Ernest,  and  the  people  passing  in  the 
street  at  the  time  looked  at  the  two, 
and  at  the  crowded  window  of  the 
Asylum,  and  many  knew  that  a  little 
orphan  boy  had  found  a  new  father. 


ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG.      85 


CHAPTER    IV. 

GOING     HOME. 

How  much  there  was  to  see  as  the 
two,  Ernest  and  his  father,  passed 
along  the  crowded  streets  together. 
Ernest  soon  had  his  hands,  the  pock- 
ets of  his  pants,  his  jacket,  and  his 
overcoat,  filled  with  toys,  candy,  cake, 
and  the  bright  picture  books,  which 
were  opened  so  temptingly  in  the 
windows  of  the  bookstores. 

The  child  was  confused  by  it  all. 
The  new  father,  so  tall,  with  his  shin- 
ing hat,  his  short  coat,  and  his  kind, 
smiling  face ;  the  street  so  busy, 
everybody  knocking  against  him  and 
he  against  everybody;  the  long  strip 
of  blue  sky  overhead,  to  which  he 


86       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

was  constantly  looking,  how  still  and 
beautiful  it  was  !  Then  the  horses 
and  the  cars  and  the  dogs.  Almost 
mechanically  he  opened  his  hands  for 
the  treasures  his  father  bought  for 
him.  He  only  half  heard  him  when 
he  pointed  out  one  after  the  other  of 
the  wonderful  things;  it  was  all  a 
new  wonder-world  to  him,  so  he  soon 
grew  weary,  and,  to  his  father's  aston- 
ishment, he  found  the  boy  walking 
every  moment  more  and  more  slowly, 
and  looking  at  him  closely,  he  soon 
found  how  tired  he  was. 

"  Poor  little  sonny,"  he  said,  taking 
him  up  in  his  strong  arms ;  "  father 
forgot  but  what  you  were  as  big  as  he 
is,  didn't  he  ?  Come  now,  we  will  have 
a  ride  way  up  aloft,  and  we'll  go  for 
our  dinner,  and  then  for  the  cars,  and 
away  home  to  mother  and  Ally." 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.       87 

At  any  other  time  Ernest  would 
have  rebelled  at  being  carried  in  any 
one's  arms ;  but  he  was  so  confused  and 
weary  now  that  he  felt  a  great  sense 
of  relief  at  being  borne  above  the 
crowd,  instead  of  having  to  push  his 
way  through  it.  They  stopped  in  an 
eating  saloon,  where  the  quantity  of 
cake,  pie,  and  other  things  which 
were  put  before  him  would  almost 
have  served  for  a  treat  to  the  chil- 
dren left  at  the  Asylum.  He  ate  until 
he  could  eat  no  more,  his  father  sit- 
ting by  and  watching  him  with  such 
an  eager  pleasure  that  even  the  wait- 
ers in  the  saloon  saw  and  wondered 
at  it;  but  in  spite  of  the  quantity 
and  quality,  at  which  a  wise  mother 
would  have  shaken  her  head,  Ernest 
felt  much  rested  and  refreshed,  and 
walked  to  the  depot  in  quite  a  manly 


88       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

way.  The  ride  to  N.  was  fojrty  miles, 
and  soon  over.  Ernest  was  full  of 
enjoyment  as  the  cars  flew  along ; 
don't  blame  him  young  reader.  I 
do  not  believe  he  thought  of  Aunty 
May,  or  of  Faith,  or  even  of  Rachel, 
as  he  left  them  behind  him:  how 
could  he,  when  he  never  remembered 
to  have  been  in  the  cars  before,  and 
it  was  all  so  new  to  him. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  when 
they  came  to  N.,  and  without  waiting 
to  speak  to  the  many  who  seemed  to 
know  him  there,  and  to  want  to  make 
inquiries  about  the  stranger  boy, 
Captain  Lee  hurried  down  narrow 
and  not  very  pleasant  streets  until 
Ernest  saw  the  dark  gray  water.  So 
far  he  had  talked  but  little,  but 
now  he  asked  eagerly,  "Is  that  the 
sea »" 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       89 

"  Yes,  little  sailor,  that's  my  home ; 
that's  where  I  eat  and  drink  and 
sleep;  that's  what  I  love  next  best 
to  Ally  and  mother  and  you ;  and 
there  is  the  boat,  don't  you  see  her  ? 
blue,  with  the  white  sail  flapping — 
that's  Bonny  Blue  —  and  we  are 
going  home  in  her.  You  wont  be 
afraid,  I  know,  for  Ally  isn't.  Why 
the  little  monkey  would  go  to  sea 
herself  all  alone  if  I  would  let  her, 
and  she  isn't  near  as  large  as  you 
are." 

By  this  time  they  were  close  to  the 
water's  edge,  and  going  out  on  a  low 
wharf,  Captain  Lee  loosened  the  Bon- 
ny Blue,  fixed  her  sail,  then  went 
back,  took  Ernest  in  his  arms,  and 
seated  him  carefully  on  the  seat  in 
the  middle  of  the  boat.  "Now  don't 
be  frightened,"  he  said ;  "  she  will  tip 


90      ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

a  little  as  we  back  her  out ;  but  the 
waves  are  as  still  as  a  mill-pond,  and 
she  will  swim  over  to  the  island  like 
a  duck." 

There  was  no  look  of  fear  in  Er- 
nest's face  as  he  turned  it  up  to  his 
father ;  but  he  was  watching  him  cu- 
riously. A  few  careful  strokes  of  the 
oars  and  the  little  boat  swung  easily 
out  from  her  moorings,  and  in  a  mo- 
ment more  was  dancing  away  over 
the  waves.  The  sun  was  just  setting, 
and  as  its  last  rays  streamed  out  over 
the  water  they  lit  up  the  little  white 
caps  with  as  many  bright  rays  as  if 
every  one  of  them  were  the  lining  of 
a  choice  shell.  Ernest  looked  in  si- 
lent wonder.  What  were  they,  these 
beautiful  things  upon  which  he  was 
riding?  Who  was  singing  ?  The  voices 
were  softer  and  sweeter  than  even 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       91 

Faith's  when  she  sung  their  evening 
hymn.  What  moved  this  boat  ?  what 
was  this  great  white  wing  swinging 
over  him  ?  Many  children  would 
have  asked  these  questions,  but  Er- 
nest only  looked  ?  and  treasured  them 
up  in  his  heart. 

"Pretty  nice,  aint  it,"  said  his  fa- 
ther ;  "rather  better  than  riding  with 
the  iron  horse,  and  we  go  almost  as 
fast  too.  Well,  sonny,  God  made  one 
.  horse,  and  man  made  the  engine,  and 
what  God  makes  is  always  the  best. 
Here  we  go,  only  a  little  further  and 
you  will  begin  to  see  home ;  and  Ally 
will  be  there,  I  know  she  will.  4  Fa- 
ther,' she  said  this  morning,  ;  bring 
me  home  a  little  brother  and  he  shall 
have  my  shells ;  that  is,  half  of 
everything.'  That's  the  way  Ally 
does,  only  she  has  had  no  one  but  her 


92       ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

old  father  and  mother  to  play  with, 
and  that  wasn't  just  fair,  you  know." 

The  boat  flew  over  the  water  al- 
most as  if  it  knew  how  impatient  the 
hand  that  guided  it  was  to  see  moth- 
er and  Ally,  and  pretty  soon  it  came 
in  sight  of  a  small  island  with  many 
high  rocks,  a  few  pine-trees,  and  here 
and  there  a  small  house. 

"There  she  is,"  said  Captain  Lee; 
"now  jump  up,  my  boy,  don't  be 
afraid ;  stand  up  there  on  the  bow  and 
hold  fast  to  my  hand.  Now  take 
off  your  cap,  and  we'll  give  three 
cheers  for  the  dear  little  sister  and 
the  new  home." 

Without  any  fear,  Ernest  sprang 
upon  the  small  board  which  was 
placed  across  the  bow  of  the  boat, 
and  refusing  his  father's  offered  hand, 
swung  his  new  cap  round  three 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.       93 

and  joined,  as  well  as  his  child's  voice 
could,  in  the  cheers  which  his  father 
sent  across  the  water.  A  low  sound 
came  back. 

"Hear  her!  hear  her!  Ernest,  that 
is  the  way  we  always  do.  I  cheer, 
and  if  she  hears  me  away  it  comes 
in  answer  in  a  minute.  Didn't  I  tell 
you  she  was  the  dearest  little  girl  in 
all  this  wide  world  ?  Now,  you'll  see, 
she  comes  way  down  to  the  very  end  of 
the  wharf,  and  when  I  haul  up,  down 
she  plumps  into  the  boat,  without 
any  more  missing  her  footing  than  I 
should.  I'll  promise  you  mother 
isn't  far  off,  though  ;  she  is  generally 
sitting  on  the  keel  of  the  old  boat. 
Yes,  there  she  is;  three  more  cheers 
for  mother,  and  we'll  be  in  in  a  mo- 
ment." 

So   the   boat   glided   nearer   and 


94          ERNEST  ;    OB,    NO    HUMBUG. 

nearer,  until  Ernest  could  see  a  child 
sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  wharf,  with 
her  feet  hanging  over,  ready,  as  her 
father  had  said,  for  the  j  uinp  the  mo- 
ment he  should  come  near  enough, 
and  a  little  further  back  a  woman 
wrapped  in  a  shawl.* 

"Now,"  and  the  Bonny  Blue  graz- 
ed alongside  the  wharf.  A  merry 
shout,  and  Ally  was  in  her  father's 
arms,  with  her  face  hidden  from  Er- 
nest by  the  great  flapping  white 
sail. 

"  Precious  lamb,"  said  her  father, 
kissing  her  as  affectionately  as  if  he 
had  just  returned  from  a  long  voy- 
age. "  I  have  brought  you  a  dear 
little  brother."  Ally's  face  peeped 
round  the  sail,  and  Ernest  saw  her 
blue  eyes  and  light  hair,  and  he  did 

*  See  Frontispiece. 


EKNEST;  OE,  NO  HUMBUG.       95 

not  know  what  else,  for  his  father 
pushed  away  the  sail,  and,  leaning 
with  Ally  over  toward  him,  said, 
"Kiss  and  love  each  other,  my 
children,  and  may  God  bless  you 
both." 

How  solemnly  his  words  sounded 
on  that  still  night.  The  little  waves 
as  they  broke  upon  the  shore  seemed 
to  repeat  them  over  and  over,  "  May 
God  bless  you  both ;"  and  perhaps, 
more  than  ever,  the  good  man  felt 
the  responsibility  of  what  he  had 
just  done  when  he  lifted  first  one 
child  and  then  the  other  to  the  shore, 
and  taking  a  hand  of  each,  led  them 
toward  their  mother. 

Mrs.  Lee  was  coming  down  to  meet 
them ;  not  a  word  was  spoken  by  her 
husband ;  but  she  put  her  arms  round 
Ernest's  neck,  called  him  "her  son," 


96       ERNEST;  OB,  isro  HUMBUG. 

and  took  him  from  that  moment  into 
her  kind  motherly  heart.  There  was 
one  less  orphan  in  God's  world,  one 
more  of  his  little  ones  whom  he  had 
sheltered  in  a  safe  home. 

"  Now  for  the  house,"  said  the  fa- 
ther, as  the  meeting  was  over.  "Er- 
nest and  I  are  tired  and  hungry,  and 
we  want  to  turn  in  as  soon  as  we 
can.  Come,  children !"  So,  hand  in 
hand,  the  brother  and  sister  ran  on 
before  to  the  little  white  house,  which 
was  only  a  short  distance  from  the 
shore. 

As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  hear- 
ing Captain  Lee  told  his  wife  all  that 
he  knew  of  their  adopted  child,  and 
was  glad  to  find  her  as  much  pleased 
with  the  appearance  of  the  boy  as  he 
had  been  himself. 

Perhaps   there  will  be   no  better 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.      97 

place  than  this  to  give  a  brief  account 
of  Ernest's  new  home  and  parents. 

Captain  Lee  had  raised  himself 
from  the  rank  of  a  common  sailor 
by  his  steady  well-doing,  until  he  not 
only  owned  his  ship,  but  had  also  laid 
up  enough  money  to  purchase  a  part 
of  the  small  island  called  Nelson's  Is- 
land, only  a  few  miles  from  the  port 
of  K  His  object  in  buying  this  place 
was  to  provide  a  home  not  only  for 
himself,  but  for  a  brother,  who  had 
never  shown  any  power  of  taking  care 
of  himself  or  his  family.  To  this  home 
he  removed  his  brother,  and  then 
building  the  house  of  which  we  have 
spoken,  he  brought  here  a  young  wife 
and  soon  little  Alice  came  to  make 
the  home  doubly  dear.  He  was 
away  on  his  voyages  sometimes  a 
whole  year,  and  then  he  left  every- 


98       EKNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

thing  under  his  brother's  care;  but 
the  days  and  nights  of  his  absence 
seemed  to  grow  longer  and  more 
dreary  to  his  wife  as  time  passed; 
and  when  Alice  was  six  years  old  he 
proposed  they  should  adopt  a  little 
boy,  not  only  as  a  companion  to  Alice, 
and  keep  her  from  becoming  selfish, 
but  also  as  a  greater  means  of  doing 
the  good  which  God  had  put  it  into 
their  power  to  do,  and  as  the  boy 
should  grow  older  having  some  one 
to  take  his  place  when  he  should  be 
away.  To  this  Mrs.  Lee  gladly  con- 
sented. She  was  a  woman  of  sterling 
common-sense  and  warm  piety,  and 
she  not  only  was  glad  to  do  what  she 
could  toward  succoring  the  poor  and 
homeless  children,  but  she  was  far 
too  wise  a  mother  not  to  see  how 
much  good  it  would  do  Alice  to  have 


EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.      99 

another  to  share  the  indulgences  of 
her  fond  parents. 

This  change  in  their  home-life  had 
been  prayerfully  undertaken;  and 
Go.d,  who  hears  and  answers  prayer, 
will  assuredly  bless  it. 

For  some  time  the  children  walked 
on  in  silence,  looking  at  each  other 
from  under  their  eyebrows,  and  at 
length,  smiling,  Alice  saw  the  top  of 
a  doll's  head  peeping  out  from  Er- 
nest's pocket,  and  she  said, 

"  O  what  a  pretty  face !  whose 
doll  is  that  ?"  Ernest  took  it  out  dif- 
fidently and  handed  it  to  her.  It 
was  very  gayly  dressed,  with  such 
pink  cheeks  and  long  pink  ribbons  as 
only  dolls  can  have.  "  You  beauty ! 
you  beauty !"  she  said,  hugging  and 
kissing  it.  "  May  I  have  it  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Ernest. 


100    ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

A  few  more  demonstrations  of 
affection,  and  the  eyes  peeped  into 
the  pocket  again.  "  What's  that 
blue  ?  I  see  something." 

"  A  top,"  and  Ernest  drew  it  out. 

"  A  top !"  and  Miss  Dolly  was 
thrown  down  in  the  sand  while  the 
fingers  were  busy  examining  the  top. 
"What  is  it  for?" 

"To  spin,"  he  said,  and  Ernest 
pointed  back  to  her  father. 

"Who  is  he?"  asked  Alice. 

"That  great  man  that  came  with 
me." 

"  Why,  that  is  my  father ;  don't 
you  know  you  should  say  father,  be- 
cause John  and  Thomas,  and  Sam 
and  Eddie,  they  all  say  father,  and 
they  are  brothers,  just  as  you  are  my 
brother,  and  I  am  your  sister.  How 
do  you  spin  it  ?" 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     101 

"  I  don't  know ;  he  said  he  would 
show  me." 

"So  he  will,  then;  he  always  does 
what  he  says  he  will,  but  uncle  don't. 
He  says  he  will  ever  so  often,  and 
then  he  don't — aint  that  queer  ?" 

Ernest  said  "yes,"  but  he  did  not 
know  what  he  was  saying  yes  to. 

"  What  else  have  you  ?" 

"Lots,"  said  Ernest,  beginning  to 
empty  his  pockets  in  haste;  but  it  . 
was  an  unfortunate  time,  for  their 
hands  were  soon  so  full  that  every 
other  thing  tumbled  over  on  the 
ground,  and  by  the  time  their  father 
and  mother  had  come  up  to  them 
they  were  surrounded  by  quite  a  toy 
shop. 

"Did  father  buy  these  all  for 
you?"  said  his  mother,  looking  so 
kindly  in  Ernest's  face  that  he  had 


102     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

no  feeling  of  timidity  as  lie  answered 
readily, 

"Yes,  ma'am;  but  part  are  for 
Ally." 

"That's  right,  never  forget  Ally; 
and  she  must  never  forget  Ernest, 
that  is  the  way  to  be  happy  together. 
Now  we  will  gather  them  all  up  and 
take  them  home." 

It  may  be  doubted  whether  Ernest 
thought  much  of  the  house,  or  how 
pleasantly  and  cheerfully  it  looked  as 
he  entered  it.  He  was  more  busy 
with  his  playthings,  wondering  over 
the  top,  and  the  pop-gun,  and  the 
whirligigs,  which  all  seemed  to  pos- 
£ess  a  new  interest  the  very  moment 
Alice  began  to  wish  and  wonder  too. 
So  the  first  hours  in  the  new  home 
were  made  busy  and  happy,  Ernest 
carrying  with  him  that  night,  when 


ERKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     103 

he  went  to  bed,  a  more  vivid  recol- 
lection of  the  games  than  of  the  fer- 
vent prayer  with  which  his  father  had 
asked  God  to  love  and  watch  over 
them  all ;  or  of  his  mother  kneeling 
beside  him  while  he  folded  his  hands 
and  repeated  the  prayers  which  Aunty 
May  had  taught  him,  though  he  did 
remember  how  she  said  to  him  as  she 
kissed  him  good-night,  "  Precious  lit- 
tle sonny,  mother  loves  her  boy !" 


104    ERNEST:  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE     FIRST     WALK. 

IT  was  late  next  morning  when  Er- 
nest woke  up.  When  he  first  opened 
his  eyes  he  could  not  tell  where  he 
was.  Instead  of  the  long  room  with 
its  bare  white  walls,  its  rows  of  small 
single  beds,  its  tables,  each  one  hold- 
ing its  Bible,  there  was  a  small,  low 
square  room  with  a  brown  paper  cov- 
ered with  pictures  of  ships  and  boats ; 
there  was  a  table  loaded  with  pretty 
shells,  a  mantle-piece  with  so  many 
queer  looking  things  on  it,  not  one  of 
which  he  had  ever  seen  before,  and 
hanging  up  in  black  frames  were 
three  pictures  of  ships.  Then  there 
was  but  one  window,  and  over  it 


EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     105 

hung  such  a  pretty  chintz  curtain, 
covered  with  pictures  of  boats  and 
ships  again.  A  large  wax  doll  sat 
on  a  chair  in  the  corner,  and  next 
to  her,  on  a  table  which  could  but 
just  hold  it,  was  a  real  ship,  with  her 
sails  all  set,  her  rigging  all  On,  and 
some  figures  in  pea  jackets  and  tar- 
paulin hats,  which  looked  to  Ernest 
like  live  sailors.  He  rubbed  his  eyes 
and  said,  "  Christie !  Christie !"  for 
Christie  had  slept  in  the  bed  next  to 
him  at  the  Asylum,  and  had  always 
been  the  first  one  he  called  when  he 
waked ;  but  no  Christie  answered 
now,  only  the  great  doll  in  the  corner 
seemed  to  wink  her  eyes  at  him,  just 
as  if  she  was  saying,  "What  in  the 
world  do  you  want  ?" 

He   raised   up  on  his  elbow  and 
looked    around.      Where    was    he? 


106     EKNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Where  was  Aunty  May,  and  Rachel, 
and  Faith  ?  Couldn't  he  go  to  school 
to  Miss  Camp  to-day  ?  Truth  to  say, 
he  would  gladly  have  given  every 
pretty  thing  in  the  room  where  he  was 
for  one  look  at  some  of  the  familiar 
objects  at  home.  He  was  still  tired 
from  the  fatigue  and  excitement  of  the 
day  before,  and  the  tears  were  in  his 
eyes,  when  his  door  was  softly  pushed 
open,  and  a  child's  head  looked  in 
at  the  crack. 

"O  mother!  mother!"  she  called, 
"he  has  waked  up  at  last — come! 
come !"  Then  she  pushed  the  door 
open  wide,  and  running  noisily  in, 
she  caught  up  the  big  wax  doll,  and 
with  a  face  full  of  glee  was  carrying 
it  to  the  bed,  when  she  caught  sight 
of  the  tears  on  Ernest's  face. 

"Why,"    said    she,   dropping  the 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     107 

doll,  and  taking  out  her  tiny  white 
handkerchief,  "  those  are  tears.  What 
are  you  crying  for  ?  We  have  been 
here  ever  and  ever  so  many  times 
before,  and  you  was  sound  asleep. 
You  must  not  cry,  'cause  you  are 
my  brother  now.  Brother  Ernest! 
aint  that  funny  ?"  and  she  wiped  the 
great  tears  away  very  gently,  as  her 
own  had  been  dried  so  many,  many 
times.  "  I  am  your  sister  Alice,  and 
papa  is  going — O  I  know !  I  wont 
tell  you,  but  its  real  nice.  Come,  here 
is  your  breakfast,  and  my  silver  mug 
for  you.  Mamma  says  you  must  own 
half  of  it,  and  half  of  everything  I 
do;  aint  it  funny?  But  I  like  it, 
don't  you  ?" 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Lee  had  come  in, 
and  one  sight  of  her  good  motherly 
face  did  more  to  cheer  the  home-sick 


108     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

boy  than  all  Alice's  prattle.  It  was 
not  like  Aunty  May's,  no,  not  in  the 
least ;  but  God  had  made  it  for  chil- 
dren to  love,  and  so  of  course  they 
did,  though  Ernest's  arms  could  not 
help  winding  themselves  around  her 
neck,  and  Ernest's  lips  could  not  help 
kissing  her ;  and  God  sent  to  this 
motherless  child  the  instinct  which 
made  him  say,  "  Good-morning,  inotk- 
er ;"  and  then — but  Ernest  never 
could  remember  what  happened  then ; 
the  first  thing  that  he  could  well  re- 
call, as  he  tried  in  after  years  to  bring 
back  the  scene,  was  that  of  being  on 
the  door-steps,  with  his  new  father, 
and  his  tying  a  bright  red  comforter 
around  his  neck,  and  pulling  the  in- 
dia  rubber,  which  held  his  cap  on, 
down  under  his  chin,  for  he  said  he 
was  going  to  take  him  out  to  walk 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     109 

where  the  sharp  sea-breeze  would  be 
looking  after  little  city  boys'  throats 
and  ears  to  see  of  what  they  were 
made."  And  this  was  out  of  doors, 
Ernest  knew  it  was,  for  there  was  the 
blue  sky  that  he  had  only  seen  in  lit- 
tle patches  between  the  rows  of  tall 
city  houses  here  it  was  over  his  head, 
over  the  ground,  over  the  trees,  over 
that  great,  rolling,  roaring  white 
ocean,  that  seemed  to  him  like  an- 
other sky,  only  beneath,  not  above 
him,  and  the  clouds,  so  large  and 
fleecy,  lay  on  both,  away  off  where  the 
two  met.  How  different  the  trees 
were  from  the  stately  elms  which 
grew  so  grandly  on  the  old  Boston 
Common.  Were  they  trees,  so  small, 
with  their  scraggy  branches?  And 
where  were  the  walks,  and  the  men, 
and  the  horses  ?  What  sort  of  a  new 


110     ERKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

world  had  the  boy  fallen  into  ?  None 
of  these  thoughts  did  he  express  as 
he  stood  silently  looking  around  him, 
while  Alice  danced  and  laughed  and 
sang,  tied  on  her  own  comforter,  and 
gave  to  her  pretty  blue  hood  a  closer 
pull,  as  if  she  wanted  to  make  believe 
she  was  afraid  the  wind  was  hunting 
for  her  too.  She  did  not  quite  like 
this  new  brother,  he  looked  so  still 
and  almost  scared ;  why  didn't  he  do 
as  she  did  ?  Eddie  was.  more  full  of 
fun,  and  she  never,  never  saw  him 
with  tears  in  his  eyes ;  still,  she  had 
a  loving  little  heart,  and  she  could 
not  keep  it  away  from  nestling  close 
up  to  him.  So  she  took  his  hand 
and  squeezed  it,  then  kissed  it  over 
and  over,  and  then  she  took  her 
father's  and  did  the  same,  only  he 
held  hers  so  very  tight  he  almost 


EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     Ill 

hurt  her,  while  Ernest  did  not  no- 
tice her. 

"Now,  what  shall  we  show  Ernest 
first,  down  to  the  beach?  Yes,  I 
knew  you  would  say  so ;  but  he  don't 
know  a  shell  from  a  pebble  yet ;  and 
as  for  the  crabs,  why  he  would  be 
almost  afraid  of  them  until  they  had 
bitten  him  once  or  twice.  I'll  tell 
you  what  we  will  do ;  we  will  go  over 
to  Uncle  Seth's  and  see  the  boys." 

"  John  and  Thomas  have  gone  out 
fishing ;  they  came  round  to  mamma 
for  your  net  early  this  morning." 

"  So  they  have  my  net  again.  Well, 
Sam  and  Eddie  are  somewhere,  and 
this  little  shaver  will  feel  more  at 
home  when  he  gets  with  boys." 

"Row  us,  papa,  please,  do  row 
us." 

"  That  is,  take  you  two  miles  when 


112     EEKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

we  can  get  there  by  walking  half  & 
one." 

"  But  it  is  so  pretty,  papa !" 

"  Yes,  I  know  it ;  but  we  will  save 
the  row  until  we  have  the  other  boys, 
then  we  will  go  over  to  Egg  Island 
together,  and  see  who  will  get  the 
most  eggs.  Should  you  like  to, 
Ernest?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  your 
cousins  go  too  ?" 

"  Who  are  my  cousins  ?" 

"  Sure  enough,  you  don't  know,  do 
you  ?  Well,  they—" 

"  Why,"  broke  in  Alice,  "  don't  you 
know  ?  I  do  all  about  it.  There  is 
John ;  he  is  a  big,  big,  bouncing  boy, 
almost  as  big  as  papa,  and  I  like  him 
too ;  he  takes  me  out  in  the  boat,  and 
mother  lets  me  go,  for  she  says  he 


EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     113 

is  handy  with  a  boat;  then  he  never 
wets  me,  and  Tommy  does.  Tommy 
always  says,  '  O  dear,  I  can't  help  it,' 
and  he  splashes  the  water  all  over  me 
and  wets  me  just  like  a  rat.  I  don't 
like  him;  he  takes  away  my  shells, 
and  says  he'll  give  me  some  prettier 
ones,  but  he  never,  never,  never  does, 
though  I  keep  teasing  him  all  the 
time.  Then  he  pushes  Eddie  down 
when  he  gets  a  good  chance,  and  he 
makes  us  both  cry  lots,  and  he  says 
the  ship  is  all  his,  and  some  day 
he  is  going  to  fit  her  up  and  sail  her 
off,  so  we  can't  have  her  any  more. 
I  tell  you  Tommy  is  real  ugly.  I 
don't  want  him  for  my  cousin,  but  I 
have  him  'cause,  'cause  he  don't  go 
away,"  said  Ally,  stopping  to  take 
breath. 
The  father  smiled.  "A  bad  case 


114    ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG. 

you  have  made  out  for  poor  Tommy, 
now  what  about  Sam  ?" 

"  O,  Sam,  I  don't  much  love  him 
either.  He  tells  stories;  we  all  say 
he  does.  O,  papa,  don't  you  think 
he  said  he  caught  a  lobster  that 
weighed  twenty  pounds,  and  sold  it 
to  a  man  who  was  out  here,  fishing, 
for  a  hard  silver  dollar !" 

"Well,  did  he  show  you  his  dol- 
lar ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  he  said  he  had  hid  it 
away  in  the  sand,  as  Captain  Kidd 
did,  and  that  he  was  going  to  keep 
it  there  until  he  got  a  pot  full,  and 
then  he  was  going  to  dig  them  all  up 
and  buy  a  splendid  new  ship,  and  he 
would  call  her  the  Alice  Lee,  after 
me,  and  then  he  would  marry  me  and 
leave  me  at  home  while  he  went  way 
off,  and  come  back  with  such  splen- 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     115 

did  things  as  I  never  saw.  Is  tie  go- 
ing to,  papa  ?  I  had  rather  not." 

"  Sam  is  a  naughty  boy  to  tell  such 
stories,"  said  her  father  gravely,  "  and 
I  hope  he  will  learn  to  be  a  wiser 
and  a  better  boy  soon.  Now  for 
Eddie." 

"  O  Eddie  is  such  a  darling !  (he 
was  a  little  younger  than  Alice ;)  he 
is  the  dearest  child  ever  was.  He 
lets  me  hold  him  and  play  he  is  my 
baby  every  time  I  want  to,  and  I 
brush  his  hair,  and  fix  him  all  up 
ever  so  nice,  and  he  never  gets  cross, 
and  never  once  struck  me  in  all  my 
life." 

"  Well,  here  they  come ;  so,  Miss 
Alice,  Ernest  has  heard  about  enough 
from  you,  and  now  he  can  judge  for 
himself."  At  this  moment  two  small 
boys  were  seen  coming  round  a  rock : 


116     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

one  about  Ernest's  size,  the  other 
rather  smaller  than  Alice.  They  car- 
ried fishing  poles,  or  rather  long 
sticks  which  they  were  going  to  use 
for  poles,  and  were  now  on  their  way 
to  a  cove,  where  they  spent  many 
hours  catching  such  little  fish  as 
swam  near  enough  to  the  shore  to  be 
caught  by  a  small  hook.  They  stop- 
ped when  they  saw  their  uncle  with 
the  children,  but  he  called  them  to 
come  and  see  their  new  cousin,  and 
Alice,  running  to  meet  them,  was 
soon  seen  gesticulating  with  much  ar- 
dor as  they  came. 

"Here  are  Sam  and  Eddie,  Ernest. 
Children,  this  is  your  cousin,  my  son, 
and  Alice's  brother ;  I  want  you  all 
to  be  very  good  friends  and  love  each 
other." 

The  boys  looked  without  speaking, 


EKKEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     117 

and  Alice,  in  a  very  patronizing  way, 
began  to  take  Eddie's  pole  from  him 
to  carry  it  herself;  but  this  Eddie 
resisted  with  a  twitch  or  two  of  his 
shoulders,  which  Alice  understood, 
and  poutingly  let  him  alone. 

The  father  saw  it  and  said :  "  When 
we  are  at  home,  Ally,  you  remind  me 
and  I  will  tell  you  a  little  story." 

"  O  papa  will  tell  us  a  story !" 
said  Alice,  her  humor  changing  in 
a  moment,  for  there  was  nothing 
she  loved  like  one  of  her  father's 
stories. 

"  May  I  come  ?"  said  Sam,  speak- 
ing for  the  first  time. 

"And  I  too,  Uncle  William?"  said 
Eddie. 

"What!  all  of  you?"  said  *  their 
uncle,  laughing.  "  Well,  then,  instead 
of  going  over  to  Egg  Island  suppose 


118     ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

we  go  on  board  the  ship,  and  I  will 
tell  you  the  story  now." 

"  We  want  to  go  fishing  too,"  said 
Sam.  looking  longingly  at  his  rod. 

"  Poh,  who  cares  for  your  old  fish ; 
I  had  rather  have  a  story  a  hundred 
times,"  said  Alice  impatiently. 

"  Now  I  will  tell  you  what  we  will 
do,"  said  her  father  good-naturedly; 
"we  will  do  both.  I  have  some 
tackle  in  my  pocket.  I  will  fit  up  a 
line  for  my  little  folks,  and  we  will  all 
go  together  and  see  who  will  catch 
the  most ;  then  when  we  are  tired  we 
will  come  back  to  the  ship,  and  if  I 
find  it  in  very  good  order  we  will  sit 
down  and  have  the  story  too." 

"  Splendid,  you  dear,  darling,  good 
papa !"  and  Alice  looked  so  eager  to 
kiss  him  that  he  could  not  resist  tak- 
ing her  up  and  kissing  her  as  many 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     119 

times  as  she  wished.  Eddie's  lips  were 
ready  too  as  he  put  her  down,  and 
then  he  lifted  up  Ernest,  saying,  "  I 
can't  neglect  my  sonny  boy."  Sam 
laughed. 

"  All  girls  are  they,  Uncle  Will- 
iam?" he  said. 

"  Yes,  so  far  as  loving  them  is  con- 
cerned. You've  grown  to  be  too 
much  of  a  man  for  it  I  suppose, 
Master  Sam  ?" 

"  Rather  fish  any  day,"  said  Sam, 
throwing  his  stick  forward,  as  if  he 
was  lashing  the  water,  and  looking 
under  his  eyebrows  with  some  dis- 
dain at  Ernest,  who  in  his  turn  was 
watching  Sam  very  intently,  and  did 
not  know  what  to  think  of  him.  Sam 
was  an  odd-looking  boy,  and  one 
who  had  seen  more  boys  than  Er- 
nest might  have  wondered  at  him 


120    EBNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG. 

too.  He  was  dressed  in  an  old  jacket 
of  his  brother  John's ;  and  as  it  was 
long  enough  to  come  down  below  his 
knees,  it  might  have  passed  for  an 
overcoat  if  it  had  not  been  for  the 
long  sleeves,  which  were  doubled 
back  so  that  the  end  of  the  cuff  came 
to  his  shoulder.  The  collar  too,  a  great 
square  sailor's  collar,  reached  down 
his  back  almost  like  a  cape ;  and  in 
front  the  brass  buttons,  as  large  as 
cents,  looked  as  if  they  would  cover 
all  there  was  of  the  boy  beneath 
them  if  they  only  could  get  at  him. 
To  keep  this  on  him  he  had  tied  a 
striped  comforter  around  his  waist 
as  tightly  as  he  could,  and  as  it  was 
ragged  and  very  much  soiled,  it  made 
his  coat  look  like  Joseph's  coat  of 
many  colors.  Then  he  had  on  his 
head  a  tarpaulin,  which  had  done 


EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     121 

much  sea  service,  and  had  the  marks 
of  many  a  hard-fought  battle  with 
the  wind  and  the  waves.  To  com- 
plete his  odd  dress,  he  had  taken  a 
pair  of  his  father's  boots ;  these  came 
up  over  his  knees,  until  they  were  lost 
under  the  long  jacket. 

Sam  was  very  fond  of  some  such 
grotesque  dress ;  indeed,  the  boy  seem- 
ed to  have  a  fancy  for  being  some- 
body or  something  else  than  he  really 
was,  which  was  born  in  him.  As 
Alice  said,  he  was  always  telling  big 
stories,  of  which  he  made  himself  the 
hero.  His  mother  thought  it  was 
because  he  had  such  a  vivid  imagina- 
tion, and  she  felt  sure  that  some  day 
he  would  make  a  great  poet ;  but  his 
Uncle  William  said  he  would  be 
more  likely  to  grow  up  to  be  a  wicked 
man,  whom  no  one  would  trust,  for 


122     ERKEST;  OE,  NO  HUMBUG. 

he  noticed  that  all  his  great  stories  or 
queer  actions  were  pointing  to  one 
thing,  which  would  make  Sain  Cady 
a  great  boy  in  his  own  and  other  peo- 
ple's estimation.  His  uncle  always 
called  him,  when  speaking  of  him, 
"  the  little  humbug ;"  and  this  now 
introduces  to  my  reader,  after  so 
many  pages,  what  is  to  be  the  object 
of  this  book.  My  young  friend,  it  is 
to  show  you  not  only  what  a  humbug 
is,  but  to  prove  to  you  how  foolish 
and  wrong  a  thing  it  is.  Do  you 
remember  some  verses  in  the  Bible 
that  read  so  ?  You  will  find  one  of 
them  in  Proverbs  xxv,  14 :  "  Whoso 
boasteth  himself  of  a  false  gift,  is 
like  clouds  and  wind  without  rain." 
There  is  another,  Proverbs  xiii,  7 : 
"  There  is  that  maketh  himself  rich, 
yet  hath  nothing :  there  is  that 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     123 

maketh  'himself  poor,  yet  hath  great 
riches."  These  two  verses  mean  a 
great  deal.  They  are  favorite  ones 
of  Captain  Lee,  and  he  will  explain 
them  by  and  by  when  he  is  talking  to 
you  about  this  humbug ;  at  present 
he  is  going  fishing  with  the  children, 
and  we  must  go  too. 

As  the  party  approached  the  high 
rock  upon  which  the  boys  were  ac- 
customed to  fish,  Ernest  drew  back 
behind  his  father.  There  was  some- 
thing in  the  great  dashing  ocean 
which  made  him  feel  timid.  It  was 
almost  as  if  a  giant  was  spread  out 
before  him,  coming  nearer  and  nearer 
to  him  every  moment,  ready  to  swal- 
low him  up.  The  beach  was  abrupt, 
and  very  stony ;  the  reef  of  rocks 
upon  which  the  island  was  founded 
ran  out  into  the  ocean  in  a  sue- 


124     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

cession  of  shelves,  and  it  was  this 
which  caused  so  many  vessels  to  be 
wrecked  if  they  were  unfortunate 
enough  to  be  near  it  in  a  storm.  It 
made  the  surf,  too,  dash  more  loudly 
and  angrily  against  the  little  beach ; 
indeed,  the  rock  upon  which  the  boys 
climbed,  was  still  wet  with  the  morn- 
ing tide,  and  the  water  knocked 
against  its  bottom  with  a  noise  that 
might  have  frightened  a  less  truly- 
brave  boy  than  Ernest .  but  his  fa- 
ther held  his  hand  out  to  him.  and  he 
climbed  up  after  him  without  a  mo- 
ment's hesitation,  though  he  drew 
in  a  quick  breath  as  the  keen  air,  la- 
den with  sea-spray,  dashed  into  his 
face.  How  familiarly  the  other  boys 
ran  about.  How  Sam  sat  down  on 
the  very  edge,  with  his  feet  dangling 
over  that  white  foam ;  how  even  Alice, 


Ernest   and    the    Minnow. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     127 

girl  though  she  was,  sat  by  his  side, 
and  only  laughed  when  the  wave, 
breaking  at  a  little  distance,  covered 
her  bonnet  with  spray.  Even  Eddie 
threw  down  his  rod,  as  if  he  had  no 
fear  of  the  flood  into  which  he 
plunged  it ;  and  perhaps  it  was  as  well 
for  Ernest  that  not  one  there  thought 
of  the  fear  and  awe  with  which  the 
boy's  soul  was  filled.  His  father 
had  prepared  some  very  nice  fishing 
poles  for  Alice  and  himself,  and  Alice, 
still  by  Sam's  side,  was  throwing  her 
line  with  as  much  of  an  angler's  skill 
as  Sam  could  boast;  but  Ernest  was 
clinging  to  the  rock,  and  his  hand 
trembled  so  when  he  tried  to  use 
the  rod,  that  his  father  took  it  from 
him,  and  holding  the  little  fellow 
fast,  threw  the  line  far  beyond  the 
others  out  into  the  tumbling  waves. 


128     ERKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Soon  there  came  a  bite,  and  it  was 
his  line  that  drew  the  first  little  strug- 
gling fish  in.  Ernest  shrank  from  it, 
and  had  no  sympathy  with  the  cries 
of  delight  with  which  the  others 
welcomed  it.  There  was  no  sport  to 
him  in  the  agonies  of  the  poor  writh- 
ing thing,  and  he  called  out,  cover- 
ing his  face  with  both  hands, 

UO  put  it  back,  put  it  back,  fa- 
ther, do,  do  !" 

"So  I  will,"  said  his  father  tender- 
ly, "  it  is  only  a  little  minnow,  and 
has  a  right  to  live  as  well  as  any  of 
us."  So  saying  he  gently  disengaged 
its  head  from  the  hook,  but  it  was 
too  late  ;  the  fish  gave  a  few  flutters 
as  he  held  it  in  his  hand,  then  lay 
still  and  stiff — it  was  dead. 

It  was  the  first  time  Ernest  had 
ever  seen  death,  and  he  stood  looking 


EENEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     129 

at  the  poor  thing  now,  with  its  bloody 
mouth  and  its  glazed  eyes,  with  such 
an  expression  of  pity  and  sorrow 
that  Alice  came  to  look  too,  and  won- 
dered, as  she  saw  it,  if  ever  a  dead 
fish  looked  so  unhappy  before.  For 
to-day  at  least  the  sport  was  spoiled. 
Sam  was  very  successful,  and  drew  in 
fish  after  fish,  some  of  them  of  a  size 
which  made  all  the  children  look  at 
them  in  astonishment ;  and  even  Ed- 
die, with  his  little  rod,  had  such  luck 
as  had  never  come  to  him  before. 
But,  standing  away  from  them  on  the 
furthest  edge  of  the  rock,  Ernest's 
face  was  so  full  of  sadness  and  sor- 
row that  very  soon  the  interest  in  the 
fishing  grew  fainter,  and  Alice,  throw- 
ing down  her  line,  proposed  going 
then  to  the  old  ship  and  hearing  the 
story  which  her  father  had  promised 


130     ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG. 

her.  This  was  what  Captain  Lee  had 
been  waiting  for.  He  knew  it  did 
very  little  good  to  attempt  to  talk  to 
children  when  their  minds  are  full 
of  play ;  and  yet  he  had  many  things 
which  he  wanted  to  say  to  them  on 
this  first  day  of  their  being  together, 
and  of  Ernest's  life  in  his  new  home. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     131 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    WRECK. 

SAM  grumbled  when  he  heard 
Alice's  proposition,  and  saw  the  others 
all  preparing  to  leave  him ;  but  he 
was  a  social  boy,  and  could  not  with- 
stand the  temptation  to  go  with 
them  and  hear,  what  he  too  loved, 
one  of  his  uncle's  stories ;  so  he  put 
all  the  fish  together  into  a  coarse  bag 
and  with  a  self-consequence  which 
was  very  amusing,  ran  after  them. 
They  had,  however,  almost  reached 
the  ship  before  he  overtook  them,  and 
as  this  gathering  place  for  the  chil- 
dren will  be  a  very  important  one  in 
our  stories,  we  will  tell  our  readers  a 
little  about  it  now. 

I 


132     ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Some  years  ago,  during  a  very  se- 
vere storm,  the  wreck  of  a  large  ship 
had  been  thrown  by  a  wave  on 
this  island  and  left  there.  The  dis- 
tance which  it  was  from  the  ocean 
in  calm  weather  showed  how  mount- 
ain high  the  waves  must  have  run, 
and  with  what  resistless  fury  they 
must  have  broken  over  the  rock- 
bound  island.  The  form  of  the  ship 
told  that  it  must  have  been  a  Dutch 
merchantman,  but  whose  or  what  it 
was  there  was  nothing  left  specially 
to  mark.  The  cargo  had  probably 
been  thrown  overboard  to  lighten 
her  during  the  storm  ;  the  life-boats 
were  gone,  and  nothing  remained  to 
give  any  clue  to  her  ownership  but 
the  name,  painted  in  red  letters  on 
her  quarter,  and  a  curious  old  figure 
on  the  bow,  which  the  children  had 


ERNEST;  on,  NO  HUMBUG.     133 

early  christened  "  Mrs.  Fraulein."  At 
first  it  was  a  very  sad  and  solemn 
sight  to  see  this  wreck,  with  her  masts 
and  rigging  all  gone,  her  rudder 
broken,  a  loose  rope  swinging  from 
the  spot  where  in  their  extremity  the 
crew  had  thrown  over  the  anchor, 
great  planks  started  from  her  huge 
beams,  and  seams  yawning  in  her 
sides,  through  which  the  fatal  water 
had  rushed  in ;  but  every  one  soon 
grew  familiar  with  this,  and  it  came 
in  a  few  years  to  have  no  other  asso- 
ciation to  them  than  as  a  favorite 
playing  place  for  the  children.  There 
was  but  one  thing  found  on  the 
wreck  which  had  not  been  removed ; 
that  was  a  pair  of  child's  shoes,  which 
were  fastened  on  the  shelf  in  a  corner 
of  the  captain's  cabin,  and,  water 
soaked  and  shrunken  as  they  were, 


134    ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

there  they  still  remained.  The  chil- 
dren regarded  them  with  a  kind 
of  veneration,  and  there  was  no  end 
to  the  variety  of  conjectures  and  sto- 
ries to  which  they  gave  rise.  The 
ship  had  been  transformed  into  a 
kind  of  large  baby  house,  and  as 
Alice  was  the  only  girl  on  the  island, 
beside  the  daughter  of  a  fisherman 
who  lived  on  the  opposite  side,  she 
was  as  much  and  as  absolutely  mis- 
tress there  as  if  it  had  been  in  truth 
her  own  house.  This  was  a  very  cu- 
rious place,  and  only  those  of  my 
readers  who  are  familiar  with  vessels 
can  understand  just  how  curious  it 
was.  The  retreating  waves  had  left 
the  ship  standing  on  its  keel,  as  it  did 
when  sailing  on  the  water,  and  there- 
fore every  part  was  available.  It 
was,  as  we  have  said,  high  and  dry 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.      135 

on  the  land,  and  of  course  made 
quite  a  lofty  house  as  you  stood  be- 
low and  looked  up.  The  children 
had  contrived  two  ways  of  access  to 
it,  one  was  by  a  rough  board  ladder, 
made  mostly  for  Alice's  sake ;  the 
other  was  by  a  ladder  of  ropes,  knot- 
ted together  in  true  sailor  style.  The 
deck  was  a  large  flat  surface,  which 
was  covered  with  fancy  seats  of  all 
sorts  and  kinds.  There  were  rough 
boards  on  smooth  logs ;  there  were 
ribs  of  ships,  relics  of  other  wrecks, 
which  were  beaten  smooth  and  glossy 
as  ivory  by  the  friction  of  the  waves ; 
there  were  the  empty  sea-chests, 
which  had  been  hauled  up  from  the 
hold  beneath;  and  then  there  were 
long  iron-bound  settees,  with  feet 
and  backs,  which  had  been  riveted 
to  the  floor  in  the  dining  saloon 

9 


136     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

below.  This  was  ornamented  with 
rough  sea  treasures,  large  bones  of 
fish,  a  shark's  jaws,  a  whale's  back- 
bone, great  clam-shells,  shells  with 
tints  of  the  ocean  depths  from  which 
they  had  been  washed ;  an  old  com- 
pass, which  had  carried  Captain  Lee 
safely  many  times  round  the  world ; 
an  old  anchor  which  had  been  faith- 
less, and  pailed  from  those  who 
trusted  it  at  a  most  dangerous  mo- 
ment. These,  and  many  other  things 
of  which  the  children  could  tell  you 
better  than  I  can,  were  arranged  in 
that  child's  order,  which  after  all  is 
only  order  in  their  eyes. 

So  much  for  the  deck ;  but  it  was 
below  that  was  to  them  the  place  of 
all  places.  There  was  the  cabin,  with 
its  dining-room,  and  its  small  state- 
rooms parted  off  from  the  sides ;  and 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG-.     137 

at'  one  end  was  the  captain's  state- 
room, resplendent  with  its  tarnished 
gilt  ornaments,  its  marble  table,  its 
faded  and  torn  damask  curtains,  its 
narrow  berth,  and,  first  of  all,  the  lit- 
tle shoes  on  the  shelf  at  the  side  of 
the  berth.  This  was  the  children's 
parlor,  and  when  the  port  holes  on 
either  side  were  open  a  very  cunning 
and  cheerful  one  it  made.  Here  was 
brought  every  new,  curious,  and  pret- 
ty thing  which  they  could  collect; 
and  it  was  in  truth  a  wonder-house 
of  rare  shells,  (Captain  Lee  never 
forgot  the  children's  ship  when  he 
was  away  on  his  voyages,)  of  fine 
ivory  work,  of  gay  birds  stuffed,  and 
standing  in  the  very  attitude  in  which 
they  stood  in  life.  There  were  toys 
made  in  Canton,  in  Calcutta,  in  Java, 
at  the  Sandwich  Islands,  at  the  Cape 


138     EKNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

of  Good  Hope,  in  the  colony  of  Li- 
beria ;  pretty  wood  toys  from  Sorento, 
and  lava  from  Naples,  dolls  dressed 
in  costumes  from  Genoa,  small  tem- 
ples from  Rome,  leaning  towers  from 
Pisa,  tapestry  from  Florence.  In- 
deed, these  little  children  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  real  worth  of  their  treas- 
ures ;  but  their  true  value  to  them 
was  the  sunlight  and  beauty  which 
they  brought  with  them  into  the  fa- 
vorite parlor.  The  part  of  the  ship 
which  the  sailors  occupied,  and  the 
hold,  was  filled  with  pieces  of 
boards  which  the  tide  from  time  to 
time  washed  up,  and  which  they 
stored  away  for  their  boys1  purposes 
of  building  wharfs,  rafts,  and  small 
boats.  Timber  of  any  kind  was 
rare  on  the  island,  all  that  they  had 
having  to  be  brought  from  N. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     139 

It  was  no  wonder  Alice  proposed 
as  the  first  walk  the  one  to  the  ship ; 
any  child  would  have  been  anxious 
to  show  it  to  a  new  companion.  It  was 
therefore  now  with  very  eager  steps 
that  she  led  the  way,  running  on 
quickly  with  Eddie,  and  only  looking 
behind  now  and  then,  to  be  sure  Er- 
nest and  her  father  were  following. 
Ernest  had  never  climbed  a  ladder 
in  his  life,  and  he  looked  with  sur- 
prise to  see  Alice  run  up  one  into  the 
ship,  and  Eddie  the  other;  and  he 
was  not  a  little  troubled  when  he 
saw  his  father,  after  shaking  the 
ropes  to  see  if  they  were  firm,  follow 
them  without  looking  for  him.  While 
he  was  wondering  what  he  should 
do,  Alice's  head  peeped  down  from 
the  deck. 

"  Why  don't  you  come  up  ?"  she  said. 


140     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

"  I  can't,"  said  Ernest,  timidly. 

"  Yes  you  can,  it  is  as  easy  as  can 
be.  Get  on  the  ladder  and  walk 
right  up !" 

"Where  is  it?" 

"  Why,  goosey !  there,  right  be- 
fore you,"  called  out  Sam,  who  had 
overtaken  him.  "  Follow  your  nose, 
and  I  will  run  up  here." 

Without  touching  the  ropes  with 
his  hands,  and  still  carrying  his  bag 
of  fish,  Sam  went  up,  stopping  to 
look  round  at  Ernest,  who  stood  ir- 
resolute. 

"Take  hold  of  the  round  before 
you,  and  step  up  as  you  would  go  up 
stairs,"  continued  Alice. 

"  Xo,  don't  be  a  gawky ;  walk  up 
like  a  man,  as  I  do-o-o — "  But  this 
time  Sam  was  bragging  a  little  too 
soon  ;  he  finished  his  words  on  the 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     141 

ground,  to  which,  in  his  desire  to 
show  off,  he  came  rather  unexpected- 
ly, having  failed  to  plant  his  foot 
firmly  on  the  rope  above  him.  His 
bag  of  fish  lay  scattered  all  around 
him  as,  amid  the  loud  laugh  of  his 
uncle  and  the  children,  he  picked 
himself  up.  Ernest  ran  at  once  to 
his  side,  and  began  to  help  him  col- 
lect the  fish,  though  it  must  be  con- 
fessed he  could  not  touch  one  with- 
out a  shudder;  nor  did  he  laugh  as 
the  others  did ;  he  was  far  too  fright- 
ened. This  in  part  soothed  Sam, 
whose  first  feeling  was,  as  is  so  natur- 
al with  children,  to  be  angry  at  his 
fall. 

"  Did  you  hurt  you  any  ?"  Ernest 
asked. 

"Not  a  bit.  I  shouldn't  have  fall- 
en, only  father's  boots  are  so  big, 


142     ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

and  they  were  all  wet  and  slippery. 
I've  been  up  there  a  thousand  times 
with  both  hands  full,  and  never  slip- 
ped an  inch  before." 

"Take  care,  Sam,"  called  out  his 
uncle,  "I've  seen  you  go  down." 

"So  have  I,  heaps  of  times,"  said 
Eddie. 

"But  I  haven't  hurt  myself,  any 
way,"  said  Sam,  without  noticing  the 
"take  care"  of  his  uncle. 

"  No,  that  is  a  different  thing ;  what 
I  was  speaking  of  was  your  saying 
what  was  not  true." 

By  this  time  Sam  was  safe  up  the 
ladder,  and  in  the  ship ;  while  Ernest, 
made  no  braver  by  Sam's  fall,  was 
still  looking  wistfully  from  below. 

"  Come  up !"  said  his  father. 

Ernest  shook  his  head. 

"  O  be  a  brave  boy  about  it !    You 


ERNEST  ;    OR,  NO   HUMBUG.       143 

can  do  what  Alice  and  Eddie  can, 
can't  you  ?  Try ;  if  you  fall  you 
wont  hurt  you  any  more  than  Sam 
has.  Here  is  my  hand  ;  now  see  how 
soon  you  can  take  hold  of  it." 

Who  would  have  hesitated  to  step 
forward  with  that  father's  face  look- 
ing down  so  honestly,  and  his  hand 
stretched  out  ready  to  help?  Not 
Ernest ;  his  foot  was  on  the  ladder, 
and  his  eye  fastened  on  the  face  and 
hand  above ;  he  knew  he  was  safe, 
and  he  went  quickly  up.  So  it  is 
with  the  child  who  trusts  his  heaven- 
ly Father.  There  is  a  long  ladder 
reaching  from  earth  to  heaven,  and 
God  calls  us  all  to  come  up.  He  has 
many,  many  treasures  for  us  there,  far 
more  precious  and  beautiful  than  those 
these  children  had  in  the  old  wreck ; 
but  there  are  some  who  are  at  the 


144     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

bottom  of  the  ladder,  and  are  con- 
tent with  picking  up  the  worthless 
pebbles  and  broken  shells  which  are 
half  buried  in  the  sand  around  them. 
There  are  others  who,  like  Ernest, 
stand  irresolute,  fearing  to  venture, 
yet  wishing  they  were  there ;  there 
are  others  still  who,  trusting  in  them- 
selves, and  vain  in  their  self-conceit, 
start  boldly  on,  and  fall  back,  like 
Sam,  bruised  and  discomfited;  but, 
my  young  readers,  the  right,  and 
therefore  the  only  way  is,  to  look 
and  see  God  there,  and  to  reach  out 
our  hands  praying  that  we  may  clasp 
his,  while  slowly,  patiently,  and  with 
infinite  care-taking  we  toil  up,  one 
round  at  a  time,  but  the  one  above, 
one  nearer  the  Divine  help. 

Everything  was  so  new  to  Ernest 
to-day  that  he  did  not  realize  how 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     145 

very  charming  the  ship  was,  and  how 
much  a  child,  who  had  seen  a  great 
deal  more  than  he  had,  could  find  to 
amuse  and  interest  them  here.  His 
father  sat  down  and  waited  patiently, 
while  the  children  hurried  him  from 
one  room  to  another,  and  at  length, 
with  a  mingled  vision  of  many  half 
seen  things,  brought  him  back  to  hear 
the  promised  story. 

It  was  a  warm,  sunny  spot  on  the 
deck  where  they  all  clustered,  and 
any  one  would  have  thought,  to  have 
seen  how  close  they  drew  to  Captain 
Lee,  that  they  were  not  accustomed 
to  the  roar  of  the  never  quiet  ocean, 
and  had  to  listen  with  difficulty.  Er- 
nest he  had  taken  into  his  lap; 
and  we  must  say  that,  though  Alice 
never  was  displaced  before  when 
there  was  a  story  to  be  told,  still  she 


146     ERNEST;  OB,  xo  HUMBUG. 

bore  the  deprivation  to-day  with  a 
very  good  grace.  Her  father  looked 
out  so  long  over  the  water  before  he 
commenced  that  they  Began  to  be 
impatient,  and  Sam  was  sorting  his 
fish,  when  he  said  to  him  : 

"  Sam,  did  you  ever  think,  when 
you  have  been  up  here,  who  the  lit- 
tle child  was  whose  shoes  are  down 
in  the  cabin  ?" 

"Millions  of  times.  Ally  tells  us 
heaps  of  stories  about  them." 

u  Does  she  ?  Well,  now  I  am  going 
to  tell  you  one,  and  I  want  you  all  to 
be  attentive  ;  will  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  yes,  sir,"  they  all  said  in 
chorus,  and  Captain  Lee  began. 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     147 


CHAPTER  VII. 

CAPTAIN   LEE'S    STOKY. 

"  I  DON'T  know  any  more  than  you 
do  whose  the  shoes  really  were,  or 
where  the  boy  is  now  that  wore 
them;  but  it  don't  matter.  There 
was  once  a  little  Swiss  boy  who  lived 
far  away  on  some  famous  mount- 
ains that  are  called  the  Alps.  Now 
these  Alps,  you  must  know,  are  very, 
very  high,  some  of  them  so  high  that 
the  snow  never  melts  off  from  them 
summer  nor  winter,  but  upon  those 
that  are  not  so  high  there  are  often 
green  fields,  and  these  are  called  an 
Alp.  Now  these  fields  are  as  beauti- 
ful as  flower  gardens  are  with  us ; 
for  you  don't  know  how  many  kinds 


148     EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

of  flowers  grow  there,  aiid  the  grass 
is  as  green  as  it  is  here  in  the 
middle  of  June,  On  these  Alps  the 
people  who  live  in  Switzerland  keep 
all  their  herds,  their  cows  and  their 
goats;  but  they  have  many  more 
goats  than  they  do  cows,  because  they 
can  climb  on  the  sides  of  the  great 
rocks  and  pick  the  grass,  where  no 
cow  would  dare  to  go.  Well,  these 
green  fields  have  a  few  houses,  or 
chalets,  as  they  call  them  there,  built 
for  the  herdsmen  and  boys  to  live 
in.  You  would  think  it  would  be 
very  lonely  off  there,  away  from 
everybody ;  but  it  is  no  more  so  than 
it  is  here,  for  they  have  the  flowers 
and  the  cattle,  and  some  beautiful  lit- 
tle wild  animals  that  they  call  chamois; 
then  they  have  waterfalls,  which  come 
dashing  and  roaring  down  from  the 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     149 

high  mountains  all  around  them,  and 
you  know  how  much  company  it  is 
to  hear  the  water  talking  to  you  all 
the  time. 

"  Well,  on  the  top  of  one  of  these 
Alps,  taking  care  of  a  little  herd  of 
goats,  lived  Hans  Christian  and  his 
two  little  boys,  Max  and  Alex.  They 
were  older  than  you  are,  but  they 
had  always  been  so  much  exposed 
that  they  had  not  grown  very  fast, 
and  their  father  used  to  call  them  his 
4  kline  kinder.'  I  say  they  lived  here, 
but  it  was  only  in  summer.  In  win- 
ter they  went  down  from  the  Alps 
into  a  little  village  at  the  foot  of 
the  mountain,  where  their  mother 
was ;  but  from  the  time  the  first 
green  leaf  came  they  packed  up 
their  father's  pack,  and  taking  what 
they  thought  they  should  most  need, 


150     ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG. 

said  good-by  to  their  mother  until 
the  snow  came  again.  There  was 
one  thing  which  Max  did  that 
brought  him  a  good  many  bits  of 
money  as  the  summer  went  by, 
though  he  was  so  small.  He  had 
learned  to  blow  the  Alpine  horn,  and 
he  could  play  one  of  the  pieces  which 
they  call  '  E-anz  des  Vaches '  as  well 
or  better  than  any  one  else  on  the  Alp." 

"What  is  a  Kan  de  Vash?"  asked 
Alice. 

"  It's  a  tune  that  every  Swiss  loves. 
It  is  like  i  Home,  Sweet  Home,'  that 
mother  sings  to  you  so  often,  Alice.  I 
mean,  it  is  their '  Home,  Sweet  Home.' " 

"  Then  I  am  sure  I  should  like  it," 
and  Alice  began  to  sing  the  tune 
very  correctly,  looking  all  the  time 
in  Ernest's  face  for  approbation. 

Her  father  waited  through  the  first 


ERNEST;  OE,  NO  HUMBUG.     151 

verse,  then  saying,  "that  will  do, 
Alice,"  went  on. 

"This  Alp  where  Hans  Christian 
pastured  his  flock  was  one  which  lay 
on  the  road  over  which  many  travel- 
ers who  came  to  see  the  Alps  passed 
every  year,  and  all  such  travelers 
want  to  see  and  hear  every  thing 
they  can;  therefore,  when  from  the 
hill  where  he  passed  his  day  Max  or 
Alex  saw  any  one  winding  up  the 
side  of  the  mountain,  Max  would  run 
with  his  horn  to  a  place  where  there 
was  a  fine  echo." 

"  What  is  an  echo  ?"  asked  Sam. 

"  Didn't  you  ever  hear  an  echo  ?  I 
don't  know  how  you  should,  though, 
for  there  is  none  on  this  island.  It 
is  where  you  call,  and  something  an- 
swers you  in  the  same  words  and  tone 

that  you  speak.     For  instance,  when 

10 


152 

Max  blew  his  horn  he  started  all  the 
waves  of  air." 

"  Does  air  have  waves  too  ?"  asked 
Alice. 

"  Certainly,  as  much  as  the  ocean ; 
and  these  waves  go  rippling  on  just 
as  the  waves  out  there,"  said  the  cap- 
tain, pointing  to  the  ocean,  "  come 
rolling  over  and  over  until  they  reach 
the  shore.  When  these  waves  of  air 
upon  which  Max  had  blown  the  notes 
from  his  horn  struck  on  a  great  rock 
near  by,  they  came  back  just  as  you 
see  that  water  after  it  has  touched 
the  shore  roll  back  a  little  way  to- 
ward the  ocean.  When  the  air  came 
back  it  brought  with  it  the  sound  of 
the  horn  again,  and  then  it  would  go 
on  and  strike,  and  be  repeated  and 
repeated  until  it  made  a  very  won- 
derful echo  indeed. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     153 

"  One  very  fine  morning,  when  the 
air  was  so  clear  that  a  sound  could  be 
heard  a  long  distance,  Alex  discov- 
ered a  small  party  winding  their  way 
very  slowly  up  the  northern  side  of 
the  Alp. 

" '  Here  comes  some  one,7  he  called  to 
Max ; 4  hurry  up  there.  They  are  only 
Germans,  or  some  kind  of  Dutch;  I 
don't  see  an  American  among  them ; 
but  a  kreutzer  is  better  than  nothing, 
and  it  is  all  you  will  get  to-day,  I 
know.'  Max  hurried  to  his  horn,  and 
placing  it  in  the  best  position,  he 
stood  waiting  some  time  before  Alex 
called  to  him  that  the  party  were 
coming  around  the  last  rock,  and 
would  soon  be  upon  him. 

"  Then  Max  blew  some  very  soft 
notes  on  his  horn, "and  Alex  reported 
that  the  strangers  had  stopped,  and 


154    ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

were  looking  in  every  direction  to 
see  from  whence  the  sound  came." 

"What  fun  it  must  have  been!" 
said  Sam.  "I  would  have  hidden 
somewhere,  and  kept  them  hunting 
for  me  for  some  time." 

"I  don't  doubt  it,  Sam,"  and  his 
uncle  did  not  look  pleased  when  he 
answered  him.  "But  Max  was  a 
good  honest  little  boy,  and  the 
thought  of  hiding  anything,  even 
himself,  would  not  have  occurred  to 
him,  so  he  blew  a  little  louder,  and 
the  hearers  were  startled  again,  and 
having  turned  around  the  rock,  the 
guide  pointed  out  Max,  seated  near 
them  with  his  horn  in  his  hand.  Now, 
without  knowing  it,  Max  made  a  very 
pretty  picture  as  he  sat  there.  He 
was  dressed  in  the  'costume  of  the 
Swiss  boys,  which  is  a  different  dress 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     155 

from  what  our  boys  wear  here.  He 
wore  a  large,  short  pair  of  boots, 
laced  up  in  front  with  thongs  or 
strings  made  of  chamois  leather.  He 
did  not  wear  stockings,  and  his  short 
pants,  very  much  torn  at  the  bottom 
by  scrambling  over  the  rocks  after 
the  goats,  were  made  of  a  thick  kind 
of  cloth  that  looked  something  like 
the  velveteen  you  have  seen  on  Irish 
boys  when  they  first  come  over. 
Then  he  had  on  a  scarlet  coat  made 
loose  and  long,  and  tied  around  his 
waist  with  a  long  knotted  rope.  This 
rope  he  used  sometimes  to  fasten  on 
a  tree  or  projection  of  the  rock,  and 
let  himself  down  by  it,  when  a  goat 
or  kid  had  lost  its  way  and  could  not 
get  out  again.  He  had  a  very  large 
straw  hat  on  his  head,  fastened  at 
the  side  with  the  wing  of  a  bright 


156     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

colored  bird.  Altogether  Max  was  a 
very  peculiar  and  a  fine  looking  boy, 
and  made  quite  a  pretty  picture  as 
he  sat  there  with  his  great  horn  in 
his  hand. 

"The  party  that  were  approach- 
ing were,  as  Alex  had  said,  Dutch. 
There  were  only  four  persons  in  it, 
a  father,  mother,  little  boy,  and  serv- 
ant. The  father  was  a  large  man, 
a  captain  of  a  Dutch  merchantman, 
who  had  come  home  from  a  long 
voyage  and  found  this,  his  only  child, 
sick;  so  he  proposed  to  his  mother 
that  they  should  come  to  Switzerland 
to  see  if  the  fresh  mountain  breezes 
would  not  cure  him,  and  they  took 
Caled,  the  old  serving  man,  with 
them,  and  started.  The  child  seemed 
to  revive,  and  grew  better  every  day, 
and  by  the  time  they  reached  this 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     157 

Alp  they  thought  they  saw  the  roses 
coming  back  into  his  cheeks ;  so  they 
were  all  very  happy,  and  ready  to 
enjoy  everything  that  was  pleasant. 
When  they  saw  Max  and  the  horn 
little  Gottfried  clapped  his  hands  in 
delight,  for  he  loved  music  above 
everything  else  in  the  world ;  so  they 
stopped,  and  his  father  told  Max  to 
play  to  them  every  tune  he  knew. 
Max  knew  but  this  favorite  one  of 
the  Ranz  des  Vaches,  but  he  could 
play  the  variations.  When  he  paused 
between  them,  those  who  did  not 
know  music  very  well  were  apt  to 
think  he  had  quite  a  variety.  He 
played  them  through,  twelve  of 
them,  and  then  he  stopped,  and 
said  that  was  all ;  and  though  the  cap- 
tain would  have  been  very  glad  to 
have  heard  them  all  over,  and  so 


158     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

would  Gottfried,  the  guide  said  they 
could  not  wait  any  longer  if  they  were 
to  reach  the  end  of  their  journey  that 
day,  and  they  must  go  on.  Now 
Alex  was  the  one  that  always  took 
the  money,  and  when  Max  stopped 
he  came  for  it,  with  his  hat  in  his 
hand.  The  captain  dropped  in  one 
silver  piece  after  another,  saying  soft- 
ly to  Gottfried,  who  was  watching 
him  eagerly : 

" c  Here  is  a  silver  bit  for  each  new 
tune,  twelve  of  them;  twelve  silver 
bits.7  n  Then  with  many  kind  words 
the  party  went  on,  and  Alex  ran  with 
glistening  eyes  to  Max. 

" c  See  here,'  he  said ;  c  what  a  lot 
of  silver!  Didn't  you  cheat  him 
slick  ?  The  old  coon  thought  they 
were  all  different,  and  so  he  paid  a 
silver  bit  for  each  tune  you  played. 


ERNEST;  OE,  NO  HUMBUG.     159 

I  tell  you  what,  Max,  if  everybody 
would  let  you  gum  them  in  that 
way  shouldn't  we  be  rich  soon,  and 
not  have  to  live  up  here  on  this 
hateful  Alp,  taking  care  of  these 
stupid  herds ;  but  we  would  go,  O 
I  know  where,'"  and  Alex  dropped 
one  by  one  the  pieces  into  Max's 
hand. 

"  Max  seemed  to  be  very  slow  in 
understanding  what  he  said,  and  it 
was  not  until  he  held  the  treasure 
that  he  fairly  realized  it ;  then 
jumping  up  quickly,  he  threw  down 
his  horn,  and  started  on  the  road 
where  the  travelers  had  disappeared. 
He  very  soon  came  in  sight  of  them, 
and  called  so  loudly  that  they  stop- 
ped, wondering  what  they  had  left 
that  the  Alpine  child  was  bringing 
after  them.  Up  came  Max,  so  out  of 


160     ERNEST;  OE,  NO  HUMBUG. 

breath  that  he  could  not  speak ;  but, 
going  to  the  captain,  he  held  out  his 
hand  with  the  silver  pieces  in  it. 

"'What  is  it?'  said  the  captain; 
4  haven't  I  given  you  enough  ?' 

" '  Go  away,  you  little  beggar,'  said 
the  guide,  striking  at  him  with  his 
long  whip.  c  The  gentleman  has  giv- 
en you  ten  times  as  much  as  you  ever 
got  before.  Be  off  with  yourself  or  I 
will  take  away  every  bit  from  you.' 

"Poor  Max  could  not  speak  yet,  so 
he  ran  to  Gottfried,  and  holding  up 
one,  attempted  to  put  all  the  other 
bits  into  his  little  hand. 

"Gottfried  seemed  to  understand 
him  better  than  the  others,  for  he 
said,  '  He  wants  me  to  take  back  all 
the  money  but  this  one  piece,  papa. 
What  does  he  mean  ?  Don't  you  see 
he  don't  want  any  more  ?  Mr.  Guide 


EEISTEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     161 

is  very  cross  to  scold  him  so,  and 
threaten  him  with  the  whip,'  and 
Gottfried  looked  savagely  at  the 
guide. 

" '  Hear  what  he  says ;  I  can't  un- 
derstand him;'  for  Max,  though  he 
spoke  German,  used  a  peculiar  kind 
of  words  which  those  who  lived  on  the 
sea-coast  could  hardly  understand  bet- 
ter than  they  could  French. 

"  Max  by  this  time  had  recovered 
his  breath  enough  to  say  that  he  had 
been  paid  for  twelve  tunes ;  that  he 
only  played  one,  and  he  would  not 
take  the  rest ;  it  was  cheating,  and  he 
never  cheated. 

"< Bless  the  honest  little  fellow!' 
said  the  captain,  holding  his  hand  out 
to  him,  i  he  shall  have  the  whole,  and 
two  pieces  for  one,  to  pay  for  his  hon- 
esty ;'  so  he  counted  out  twelve  more. 


162     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

But  Max  would  not  stop  to  listen ; 
he  left  the  eleven  silver  pieces  in 
Gottfried's  hands,  and  ran  back  with- 
out so  much  as  looking  behind  him. 
When  he  reached  the  top  of  the  Alp 
again  he  found  his  father  and  Alex 
both  waiting  for  him,  eager  to  know 
where  he  had  been  and  what  for ; 
but  when  he  told  them  nothing  could 
exceed  their  anger.  His  father  was 
very  poor  and,  we  are  sorry  to  say, 
not  very  honest,  so  that  every  cent  he 
could  make  or  scrape  in  any  way  was 
more  to  him  than  to  almost  any  other 
herdsman  within  miles  around.  He 
called  Max  a  great  many  hard  names ; 
and  finally,  as  Max  sat  down  on  the 
ground  without  answering,  became 
so  enraged  that  he  caught  up  a 
stick  and  whipped  him  most  unmer- 
cifully. Max  cried  bitterly ;  the  pain 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.    163 

from  the  blows  was  severe ;  but  after 
all  that  was  not  half  as  bad  as  the 
pain  he  felt  in  his  heart  to  think  his 
father  should  blame  him  for  what 
had  seemed  to  him  so  natural  and  so 
right,  for  Max  was  one  of  the  honest 
boys,  with  honest  eyes  that  look  right 
out  from  an  honest  heart.  There  are 
a  great  many  different  kinds  of  chil- 
dren in  this  world  did  you  know  it, 
little  ones.  But  I  will  tell  you  the 
kind  I  like  best,  and  what  is  of  a  great 
deal  more  importance,  the  kind  your 
Saviour  loves  best.  It  is  a  child  that 
has  no  humbug  about  it.  Don't  you 
know  what  I  mean  ?  I  have  told 
all  but  Ernest  a  great  many  times, 
and  now  I  am  going  to  tell  you  again 
for  his  sake.  I  think  my  child,"  he 
said,  turning  the  boy's  face  up  to  his 
and  looking  searchingly  down  into  it, 


164     ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

"  has  the  honest  eyes  that  only  come 
from  the  honest  heart — so  had  Max. 
Perhaps  I  had  better  finish  my 
story,  and  then  you  will  listen  to  me 
more  patiently  when  I  talk  to  you 
about  humbugs.  It  is  not  a  pretty 
word,  is  it  children  ?  but  it  is  a  very 
expressive  one,  and,  as  you  will  see, 
means  a  great  deal.  Well,  Max  felt 
sore  and  bruised  after  his  father  had 
beaten  him,  and  he  could  hardly 
move  around,  to  take  care  of  the 
goats ;  and  to  make  it  worse  Alex  was 
vexed  at  him,  and  very  unkind  all 
day  long.  He  laughed  when  he  saw 
what  hard  work  it  was  for  him  to 
move,  said  he  had  the  honest  fever, 
and  he  guessed  one  more  dose  of  the 
same  medicine  he  had  taken  would 
cure  him  of  it;  but  it  was  very 
mournful  all  day  to  hear  how  sadly 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.    165 

Max  blew  his  horn  to  the  new  parties 
that  came  up — there  was  so  little  life 
or  spirit  to  it  that  no  one  seemed 
disposed  to  give  him  much  money,  and 
some  even  passed  by  without  stop- 
ping at  all.  This  did  not  make  his 
father  any  better  natured ;  and  when 
the  long  day  was  at  last  over,  and 
Max  crept  to  his  hard  bed  on  the 
floor,  he  knelt  down  beside  it,  and 
folding  his  hands,  wept  more  than  he 
prayed.  But,  children,  God  counted 
every  one  of  those  tears  for  a  prayer, 
for  they  came  from  the  very  heart  of 
his  child,  who  was  suffering  for  having 
done  right.  Don't  you  remember 
where,  in  the  Bible,  he  says,  i  Lying 
lips  are  abomination  to  the  Lord,  but 
they  that  deal  truly  are  his  delight  ?' 
Poor  little  Max  had  dealt  truly,  and 
I  have  no  doubt  before  he  went  to 


166     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

sleep  that  night  God  comforted  him 
and  told  him  that  he  was  his  delight. 
Do  you  realize  what  that  means,  chil- 
dren ?  When  you  deal  truly — truly, 
remember,  that  is,  without  any  hum- 
bug— you  are  God's  delight.  Only 
think  of  it.  You  all  love  to  be  your 
father  and  mother's  delight." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Alice,  sitting  closer 
to  her  father. 

"  Now  can  you  tell  what  it  would 
be  to  be  God's  delight,  his  pleasure, 
the  child  he  loves,  and  will  take  good 
care  of  here,  and  bring  when  he  dies 
to  live  with  him  forever  ?  There  was 
no  one  there  that  night  to  whisper 
to  Max  that  though  everybody  else 
was  angry  and  cross  at  him  God  was 
pleased,  and  even  the  far  distant,  si- 
lent stars  were  looking  down  at  him 
with  a  smile.  Perhaps  God  sent  his 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     167 

angels  to  him  in  his  dreams,  and  they 
whispered  pleasant  words  in  his  ear. 
I  should  not  be  surprised,  if  we  could 
have  looked  in  and  seen  him,  if  we 
found  the  expression  of  pain  and 
grief  were  away  as  he  slept,  and  he 
smiled,  for  the  next  morning  he  waked 
up  happy,  and  never  for  a  moment 
was  sorry  that  he  had  carried  back 
the  money  which  he  did  not  feel  was 
his  own.  He  kept  saying  to  himself, 
4  It  was  only  one  tune  after  all,  and 
only  think  how  wrong  it  would  have 
been  to  have  taken  pay  for  twelve.' 
So  when  Max  went  out  very  early,  to 
milk  the  goats,  before  his  father 
was  awake,  he  found  the  sky  was 
just  as  blue  and  the  flowers  just  as 
sweet,  and  the  birds  singing  just  as 
merrily  as  they  ever  had,  though  yes- 
terday he  was  so  unhappy  it  seemed 
11 


168     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

to  him  as  if  they  had  gone  away  for- 
ever. 

"  About  the  middle  of  the  morning 
he  saw  his  father  coming  toward  him 
with  the  stranger  gentleman  who  had 
paid  him  so  liberally  the  day  before. 
They  were  talking  very  earnestly,  and 
when  they  came  up  to  him  they  both 
stopped  and  looked  steadily  at  him. 
'Max's  face  bore  the  marks  of  one  of 
the  blows  which  he  had  received  yes- 
terday, but  the  stranger  did  not  seem 
to  notice  it ;  he  asked  him  with  a  smile 
i  for  another  tune  on  the  horn,'  and 
while  Max  was  playing  it  he  was  very 
much  troubled  by  seeing  him  take 
out  his  purse  and  hand  his  father 
what  seemed  to  him  a  large  number 
of ,  shining  gold  pieces.  His  father 
took  them  eagerly,  and  said  to  him, 

" '  Max,  this   gentleman  wants    to 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     169 

have  you  go  home  with  him.  He 
says  you  may  come  back  and  see  us 
when  you  are  a  larger  boy,  and  he 
will  take  good  care  of  you;  should 
you  like  to  go  ?' 

"'Come  with  me  and  play  with 
my  boy.  Gottfried  has  taken  a  great 
fancy  to  you,  and  as  he  has  no  broth- 
er or  sister,  we  are  going  to  have  you 
for  his  brother ;  shall  you  like  it  ?' 

"  Max  looked  eagerly  at  Alex,  but 
Alex  seemed  to  have  understood  that 
the  gold  he  saw  go  into  his  father's 
pocket  was  to  pay  for  taking  Max, 
and  the  greedy  boy  had  rather  just 
then  have  the  gold  than  the  brother, 
so  he  did  not  look  at  Max  as  if  he 
cared  anything  about  his  staying, 
neither  did  his  father.  Max  thought 
for  a  moment  of  his  mother  in  the 
little  chalet  under  the  mountain,  and 


170    ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

of  his  sisters ;  but  he  knew  there 
were  already  there  more  mouths  than 
could  be  well  fed,  so  he  put  down  his 
horn,  and  went  to  the  good  captain 
and  said,  '  I  am  ready,  sir.' 

"So  his  father  and  Alex  shook 
hands  with  him,  and  he  went  out  and 
said  good-by  to  the  goats,  and  kissed 
his  Alpine  horn  over  and  over  again ; 
and  that  was  the  last  time  the  echoes 
ever  repeated  a  '  Ranz  des  Vaches ' 
from  Max  on  this  green  Alp. 

"  The  captain  and  Max  could  not 
talk  much  as  they  went  down  the 
mountain  to  the  village  where  the 
travelers  had  put  up  for  the  night, 
but  they  managed  to  understand  each 
other  very  well  for  all  that ;  and  when 
they  came  in  sight  of  the  hotel,  there 
was  Gottfried  waiting  for  them,  and 
he  ran  to  meet  them,  with  so  many 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     171 

expressions  of  delight  that  it  seemed 
to  Max  as  if  he  knew  what  every  one 
of  them  meant.  When  they  came  to 
the  hotel  they  found  a  man  who  act- 
ed as  interpreter ;  that  is,  he  changed 
the  words  Gottfried  said  into  those 
Max  knew,  and  those  Max  said  into 
those  Gottfried  knew,  so  the  two 
boys  soon  became  acquainted,  and 
learned  to  love  each  other  directly. 
The  truth  was,  the  reason  Gottfried's 
father  had  gone  back  for  Max  was 
because  his  son  had  taken  such  a 
fancy  to  him,  and  because  he  himself 
was  so  pleased  with  the  simple,  true, 
honest  character  which  the  affair  of 
the  money  showed.  His  design  was 
to  take  Max  traveling  with  them 
while  they  were  in  Switzerland,  then 
back  with  them  when  they  returned 
to  Germany,  leaving  him  at  home  to 


172     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

amuse  and  take  care  of  Gottfried 
while  he  should  be  gone  on  his  next 
voyage.  Max's  father  had  willingly 
consented,  on  the  payment  of  a  sum 
of  money  which  he  said  Max  would 
earn  for  him.  if  he  remained  at  home. 
To  this  the  generous  captain  had  add- 
ed three  or  four  extra  gold  pieces; 
so  Max  felt,  that  besides  leaving  the 
food  and  clothes  which  must  have 
been  provided  for  him  if  he  had 
remained,  his  parents  had  received 
more  money  than  they  had  ever 
owned  before.  Perhaps  he  was  home- 
sick ;  but  if  he  was,  it  was  more  for 
the  Alp  and  the  waterfall  arid  the 
herds  than  for  any  thing  else,  for 
now  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he 
was  always  treated  kindly.  So  he 
journeyed  on  with  them,  seeing  many 
new  sights  and  hearing  many  new 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     173 

things,  until  they  reached  Gottfried's 
home,  and  then  soon  the  captain  left 
*hem  and  went  to  sea. 

"He  was  gone  a  long  time,  and  when 
he  came  back  he  found  his  boy  had 
grown  sick  again;  and  when  he  saw 
how  changed  he  was  he  knew  God 
was  going  to  call  him  home,  and  so 
he  did.  Before  many  weeks  Max 
was  the  only  child  there  was  left  to 
the  captain,  and  when  the  time  came 
for  him  to  go  to  sea  again  he  had 
become  so  much  attached  to  the  Al- 
pine boy  that  he  did  not  wish  to 
leave  him  behind,  and  as  Max  was 
very  anxious  to  go  with  him,  he  wrote 
to  Max's  father  that  he  was  going  to 
make  a  sailor  of  him,  and  they  sailed 
from  Hamburg  in  a  fine  ship  laden 
with  all  kinds  of  merchandise. 

"  There  was  one  thing  which  Max 


174     EKNEST;  OR,  JSTO  HUMBUG. 

took  with  him ;  it  seemed  to  be  the 
only  thing  he  really  felt  sorry  to 
leave ;  that  was  the  little  pair  of  shoes 
he  had  taken  off  of  Gottfried  the 
last  time  he  was  dressed.  The  shoes 
he  loved  dearly,  and  he  made  a  little 
niche  for  them  on  the  shelf  in  the 
captain's  cabin,  so  that  they  both 
saw  them  there  all  day  long." 

" i  Are  those  Gottfried's  shoes  on 
the  shelf  now  ?'  asked  Alice,  eagerly. 

ucSo  oor  story  says,'  said  her 
father,  'for  this  may  be  the  very 
ship  in  which  the  captain  was  bring- 
ing over  goods  to  an  American 
port.' 

" '  Then  where  is  Max  ?'  asked  Er- 
nest. 

"  Max !  O  we  will  hope  he  was 
taken  off  by  some  fine  new  ship  when 
this  old  one  had  sprung  a  leak,  and 


EENEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.    15 

they  found  they  could  not  save  her ; 
and  perhaps  he  is  sailing  with  his  fa- 
ther this  very  moment  in  a  bran  new 
ship ;  but  now,  children,  for  the  point 
of  my  story.  What  should  those  lit- 
tle shoes  say  to  you  every  time  you 
go  into  the  cabin  ?  I  will  tell  you  : 
'  Lying  lips  are  an  abomination  to  the 
Lord,  but  they  that  deal  truly  are 
his  delight.'  Come  here,  Sam  !"  Sam 
threw  down  his  fish  and  came  to  his 
uncle.  "  Do  you  see  this  boy  in  my 
lap  3" 

"'Yes,  sir.' 

"  Well,  there  is  one  thing  I  want 
you  always  to  remember.  You  may 
play  together  just  as  long  as  you  play 
honestly ;  but  the  first  time  I  find  you 
beginning  to  teach  him  to  do  any- 
thing that  is  not  true,  cto  make  be- 
lieve1 as  you  call  it,  or  to  humbug,  as  I 


176     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

call  it,  that  is  the  last  time  I  shall  will- 
ingly leave  you  together.  I  want  him 
above  all  things  to  grow  up  honest, 
and  never  to  pretend  to  what  is  not 
so,  however  little  the  thing  may  be. 
Do  you  know  it  is  the  same  in  God's 
sight  whether  you  say  or  do  an  un- 
truth ?  Do  you  know  that  you  cannot 
be  Christian  children  unless  you  are 
spotless  in  God's  eyes  ?  Ah,  Sam,  you 
think  it  is  a  little  matter  now  to  de- 
ceive when  you  can ;  but  your  Saviour 
•  will  not  bless  you ;  his  hand  never 
yet  rested  on  the  head  of  a  child  who 
was  not  of  good  report,  and  that  you 
cannot  be  if  others  cannot  trust  you. 
My  children,  I  want  you  all,  now  you 
are  little  children,  to  begin  life  by 
having  a  glass  window  over  your 
hearts.  Don't  you  know  what  I 
mean  ?  Let  me  tell  you.  I  mean, 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     IT 7 

ask  God  every  morning  and  night 
that  you  may  live  and  act  so  that 
you  should  not  be  afraid  to  have 
your  father  and  mother,  and  all  your 
little  friends,  look  into  your  heart, 
and  see  and  know  everything  that  is 
going  on  there.  One  day,  when  you 
die  and  go  to  another  world,  every- 
thing will  be  known,  and  only  think 
how  much  happier  you  will  be 
then  if  you  can  meet  God's  eye  as 
you  always  have  your  earthly  par- 
ents, and  say,  'Lord,  thou  hast 
searched  me,  and  known  me;  thou 
understandest  my  ways  afar  off.' 
Ernest,  my  son,  wear  the  glass  win- 
dow over  your  heart  for  your  fa- 
ther's sake." 

Now  none  of  these  children  under- 
stood exactly  what  Captain  Lee  meant 
by  the  glass  window;  but  I  can  tell 


18     EKISTEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

you  what  they  did  carry  away  with 
them :  a  feeling  that  it  would  be  very 
wrong  to  deceive;  and  I  think  they 
thought  that  they  would  try  in  little, 
very  little  things  to  be  true  and 
simple,  and  purely  honest. 

They  sat  on  the  deck  of  the  old 
ship  until  they  heard  a  shell  blown. 

"  That  is  for  you,"  said  their  uncle 
to  Sam  and  Eddie;  "your  mother 
blows  two  notes  higher  than  your 
aunt.  Now  home  with  you,  and  a 
nice  dinner  to  you.  And  there  is 
ours ;  hark  !  don't  you  hear  ?  it  is  not 
so  long  and  loud.  Mother  hasn't  any 
boys  to  call — O  yes,  she  has,  here  is 
Ernest,  and  now  he  hears  the  bell 
which  we  ring  on  Nelson's  Island. 
Mind  it  wherever  you  are,  my  boy, 
for  mother  always  wants  you  when 
she  plays  that  tune." 


EENEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     179 

u  It  is  Max's  horn  on  the  Alps,"  said 
Alice,  "  and  that  is  the  Ran  de  Vash 
I  don't  think  she  could  play  twelve 
tunes  for  twelve  silver  dollars,  do 
you,  papa?" 

"She  always  plays  our  Ranz  des 
Vaches,  though,"  said  her  father,  "  the 
home,  sweet  home,  that  we  love  best. 
And  now  we  will  go." 

It  was  a  very  pleasant  home  they 
went  to.  Ernest  was  not  nearly  as 
homesick  as  he  was  in  the  morning ; 
indeed  after  dinner,  when  Alice 
brought  her  trunk,  so  full  of  play- 
things, gifts  from  her  father,  I  doubt 
whether  Ernest  would  have  gone 
back  to  the  Asylum  if  he  could, 
though  he  did  remember  Rachel,  and 
picked  out  a  little  glass  dog,  which 
he  thought  would  please  her,  from 
among  the  heap  of  pretty  things  which 


180     ERTCEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG, 

Alice  gave  her;  nor  did  he  forget  a 
wooden  whistle  for  Christie,  and  the 
story  of  "Goody  Two  Shoes"  for 
Faith. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.    181 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  BOYS'  RAFT. 

FOUR  weeks  longer  Captain  Lee 
staid  at  home  with  his  family.  The 
days  were  now  short  and  cold;  the 
wind  swept  piteously  over  the  island, 
and  the  children  had  to  give  up  all 
out-of-door  sports,  and  confine  them- 
selves mostly  to  the  house.  But  the 
darkest  day  that  came  through  the 
whole  fall  was  the  one  when  their 
father  kissed  them  good-by,  and  with 
their  Cousin  John,  who  was  to  make 
his  first  voyage,  got  on  board  the 
Bonny  Blue  to  go  to  the  good  ship 
Sea  Bird,  which,  with  her  sails  all 
set,  was  waiting  for  them  in  the 
offing.  The  whole  family  stood  on 


182     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

the  wharf  where  Ernest  had  first 
landed,  and  watched  the  ship  till 
the  horizon  seemed  to  have  swal- 
lowed it  up;  then  Ernest,  wiping  the 
tears  from  Alice's  face,  said : 

"Don't  cry,  Ally;  when  I  am  a 
big  man  I'll  sail  the  ship,  and  father 
shall  stay  at  home." 

"And  I  will  go  with  you,"  said 
Alice,  half  sobbing;  "and  we  will 
go  where  the  oranges  and  the  lemons 
grow,  and  I  will  always  have  my 
apron  fell  of  roses.  Wont  I  ?" 

"Yes;  and  I  will  buy  sugar  and 
tea,  and  send  some  to  Aunty  May; 
and  we  will  have  some  of  those  big, 
big  grapes  that  father  tells  us  about ; 
and  we  will  go  up  to  the  Alp  and 
ask  Alex  where  Max  is;  and  then 
we  will  go  and  see  him,  and  ask  him 
to  tell  you  more  about  Gottfried,  and 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     183 

about  the  storm  when  the  ship  was 
wrecked ;  who  took  him  off,  and 
where  the  long-boats  are.  Sam  says 
there  is  a  place  for  two." 

"And  what  they  had  on  board"," 
broke  in  Alice;  "and  why  they 
didn't  leave  us  some  of  their  nice 
things." 

"  O,  the  water  would  have  spoiled 
them,  I  guess." 

"They  might  have  covered  them 
all  over  with  India-rubber  cloth,  like 
father's  great  coat,  and  then  it  would 
not." 

This  India-rubber  cloth  was  a  puz- 
zle to  Ernest.  He  thought  he  would 
ask  Sam  why  he  supposed  they  did  not 
do  so  the  very  first  time  he  saw  him. 

And  so  the  children  prattled  as 
they  went  home,  while  their  mother 

followed  them  with  a  veiy  sad  heart; 
12 


184      ERNEST  ;    OR,    NO   HUMBUG. 

and  their  father,  in  the  ship  that  was 
lost  beyond  the  horizon,  was  looking 
back  to  the  spot  where  he  fancied 
they  all  were,  feeling  that,  now  he 
could  no  longer  see  them,  he  had 
already  been  separated  from  them 
for  a  great  length  of  time. 

Mrs.  Lee  was  not  a  woman  to  waste 
time  in  useless  regrets,  or  to  make 
others  unhappy  because  she  felt  sor- 
rowful ;  so  she  began  at  once  what 
she  had  been  planning,  a  dayly  school 
for  the  children.  To  this  Sam  and 
Eddy  were  admitted.  The  dining- 
room  was  fitted  up  for  a  school-room, 
and  Alice,  who  had  always  been  alone 
at  her  tasks  before,  now  found  her- 
self very  happy  with  her  little  school- 
fellows. It  was  literally  "  learning 
without  tears ;"  for  their  teacher  was 
wholly  devoted  to  them,  and  she  was 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     185 

so  good  and  kind,  how  could  they 
help  learning  to  please  her.  Even 
Sam,  an  obstinate,  dull  boy  at  his 
books,  began  to  think  it  was  quite 
worth  while  to  get  his  lessons,  and 
to  feel  a  little  sensation  of  shame 
when  Ernest  received  the  best  mark 
day  after  day  for  the  best  lessons; 
he  never  thought  what  the  reason 
was. 

Let  me  tell  you.  Sam  was  always 
busy  at  his  book  studying  when  his 
aunt  looked  at  him ;  but  if  she  was 
busy,  and  did  not  notice  him,  then 
he  amused  himself  the  pleasantest 
way  he  could.  Sometimes  he  would 
draw  pictures  on  his  slate,  while 
Ernest  was  working  at  his  sums; 
then,  looking  slyly,  would  copy  the 
figures  as  quickly  as  he  would.  Once 
his  aunt  saw  him  doing  it,  and  you 


186     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

may  be  sure  lie  received  a  severe 
reproof,  and,  what  he  minded  more, 
he  was  always  put  into  a  seat  by 
himself  when  he  was  at  work  on  his 
arithmetic.  It  was  curious,  as  well 
as  painful,  to  see  how  many  ways  he 
tried  to  avoid  doing  what  he  should 
do,  and  yet  to  appear  to  do  it.  He 
would  hold  his  spelling-book  before 
him,  as  if  he  were  intent  on  getting 
his  lessons ;  but  all  the  time,  instead 
of  reading  over  one  word,  he  would 
be  planning  out  some  play ;  or  he 
would  have  his  map  on  the  table, 
with  a  string  of  places  to  be  looked 
out,  and  very  likely  be  moving  his 
finger  over  it ;  but  he  would  not  care 
to  find  whether  Japan  was  an  island, 
right  next  to  Nelson's,  or  far  away 
in  the  Caribbean  Sea  or  in  the  In 
dian  Ocean. 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     187 

Now  there  are  a  great  many  idle 
children  who  go  to  school  and  never 
get  their  lessons.  I  wish  Sam  was 
the  exception,  but  indeed  he  was  not ; 
the  difference  between  him  and  other 
children  was  that  he  wanted  to  appear 
to  study,  and  to  have  his  aunt  give  him 
all  the  credit,  which  she  would  to  a 
good  scholar,  while  in  truth  he  did 
just  as  he  pleased,  and  was  as  idle  as 
he  had  a  mind  to  be.  When  he  felt 
sorry  and  ashamed,  it  was  a  feeling 
which  did  not  last  long,  for  it  was 
not  deep.  It  came  as  much  from  not 
receiving  credit  for  what  he  had  not 
done,  as  for  any  true  repentance. 

Sometimes  this  trait  brought  him 
into  very  serious  trouble;  and  once 
he  came  near  not  only  losing  his  own 
life,  but  being  the  means  of  drown- 
ing Eddie  too.  We  must  tell  our 


188     EKKEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

readers  the  story,  for  it  contains  a 
serious  moral. 

Captain  Lee,  before  he  sailed,  had 
fitted  up  the  kitchen  of  the  old  ship 
with  a  stove.  This  he  had  arranged 
safely,  so  that  there  was  no  danger 
of  fire;  and  here,  on  the  children's 
holiday  of  Wednesday  and  Saturday 
afternoon,  they  were  at  liberty  to 
have  a  fire,  and  amuse  themselves 
the  pleasantest  way  they  could.  One 
of  their  favorite  occupations  was  saw- 
ing and  fitting  boards  for  a  raft, 
which  was  to  be  put  together  and 
launched  as  soon  as  the  spring  came. 
On  this  Tom,  the  eldest  of  Uncle 
Seth's  boys  now  at  home,  worked 
with  them,  and  a  very  nice,  work- 
manlike thing  it  promised  to  be.  It 
was  surprising  how  fast  it  grew,  and 
how  soon  it  was  only  waiting  for  a 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     189 

few  warm  days  to  be  taken  out  of 
the  cabin,  and  to  lie  at  full  length 
on  the  sand. 

At  last  the  warm  days  came.  Un- 
cle Seth  said  he  thought  "  the  back- 
bone of  winter  was  broken,  and  there 
would  be  no  more  very  cold  weath- 
er." The  ice  that  had  clung  to  the 
sides  of  the  ship  melted  and  fell  off, 
and  great  patches  of  sand,  as  white 
and  almost  as  dry  as  they  were  in 
summer,  began  to  be  dotted  down 
here  and  there  on  the  beach. 

When  a  week  of  such  weather 
made  the  boys  feel  that  spring  was 
in  truth  near,  Tom  yielded  reluctant- 
ly to  the  noisy  wishes  of  the  younger 
children;  and  such  a  jubilee  as  they 
had  as  they  took  the  pieces  of  the 
raft  out,  and  carried  them  to  the 
sunniest,  dryest  spot  on  the  shore. 


190     EKNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Ernest  had  learned  now  to  run  up 
and  down  the  rope  ladder  as  quickly 
as  any  one.  He  was  active  and 
obliging,  and  a  great  favorite  with 
them  all.  Tom  said  "he  was  worth 
the  other  three,  put  them  all  togeth- 
er ;"  at  which  Alice  pouted,  but  said 
"  she  did  not  care ;  she  was  glad  she 
was  not  a  boy." 

In  this  moving  out  Ernest  did 
double  work;  he  was  in  the  ship 
and  ont  again  with  his  arms  full, 
while  Sam,  with  a  great  show  of  act- 
ivity, was  bustling  noisily  about,  and 
very  uselessly  trying  to  arrange  the 
planks  as  they  came,  at  the  same 
time  ordering  the  others  as  much 
as  he  dared.  Tom  was  in  the  ship, 
handing  up  the  boards  from  the  hold, 
and  it  was  some  time  before  he  no- 
ticed into  whose  hands  he  put  most. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     191 

When  lie  did  he  called  out,  "Where's 
Sam?" 

"Building  the  raft  and  ordering 
us,"  said  Alice,  who  had  been  in  vain 
trying  to  make  Sam  do  his  part. 

Tom  sprang  up  the  hatchway,  and 
in  a  moment  Sam  felt  a  tight  hold 
on  his  collar. 

"  You  lazy  fellow !"  and  the  push 
Tom  gave  him  was  none  too  good- 
natured.  "  Make  others  do  the  work, 
and  you  do  the  play.  Go  up  there 
and  bring  down  with  the  re.st  of 
them,  or  you  shall  never  put  foot  on 
the  raft  so  long  as  my  name  is  Tom." 

"I   have    been,"   said   Sam,   sulk- 

ily. 

"  Yes ;  great  work  you  have  done  ! 
Ernest  is  worth  ten  of  you.  Look 
there,  now ;  he's  getting  a  beam  down 
that  is  twice  as  long  as  he  is.  Stop 


192     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

your  shamming  and  take  hold,  or  go 
home." 

"  I'll  do  as  I  have  a  mind  to." 

"  No  you  wont ;  you'll  do  as  I  say. 
I'm  captain  when  I'm  around,  and 
if  anybody  rebels  he  had  better  look 
out.  We  don't  have  mutiny  on  board 
ship ;  if  we  do  we  have  irons,  or  the 
rope's  end  from  the  yard-arm." 

Now  Tom  was  almost  fourteen 
years  old,  so  he  felt  more  conse- 
quential than  if  he  had  been  forty, 
and  was  very  often  rather  unfair 
with  the  children,  though  in  the 
main  he  was  a  good-natured,  pleas- 
ant, mischief-loving  boy.  Sam  knew 
that  he  must  mind  him,  and  with  a 
sour  face  began  to  go  slowly  to  work. 

"  Hurry  up  there  !"  said  Tom,  shak- 
ing the  ladder  rather  inconveniently 
from  the  bottom,  "and  don't  let  the 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     193 

grass  grow  under  your  feet;  for  if 
we  can't  get  her  together  so  she  holds 
pretty  tight  this  afternoon,  we  shall 
have  to  take  her  apart  and  carry  her 
back,  that  is  all.  Now,  fire  up !  we 
must  run  the  train  two-forty  if  we 
want  to  get  in." 

This  was  the  most  conclusive  argu- 
ment, for  Sam  had  already  his  own 
designs  in  wishing  to  get  the  raft  to- 
gether as  quickly  as  possible.  He 
could  work  when  he  pleased,  and 
very  soon  Tom  said  the  kitchen  was 
empty,  and  nothing  remained  but  to 
build  the  raft.  Every  separate  part 
had  been  put  together  so  many  times, 
that  it  almost  seemed  to  the  boys  as 
if  they  knew  their  own  places,  and 
went  into  them  of  their  own  accord. 
It  was  but  a  little  while  before  a  very 
nice  looking  raft  lay  stretched  out  on 


194     EEISTEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

the  sand,  and  though  not  all  done,  it 
bore  shaking  and  pushing  very  well. 
Sam  was  very  anxious  to  have  it 
launched  at  once;  but  Tom  said, 
though  it  was  strong  and  so  well 
framed  he  had  no  doubt  it  would  go 
safely  to  Gibraltar,  he  was  captain, 
and  no  one  would  catch  him  taking 
his  ship  to  sea  until  it  was  ship-shape. 
Still  he  put  in  the  mast,  and  pushed 
it  down  a  little  nearer  to  the  water ; 
indeed,  so  near  that  a  wave,  a  little 
more  venturesome  than  the  rest,  came 
up  and  wet  the  front  of  it,  at  which 
the  children  cheered  most  lustily. 
"It  had  had  its  first  mouthful,"  they 
said,  "  of  its  sea-drink."  It  was  a  very 
proud  and  happy  time  to  them,  this 
warm  February  afternoon,  and  quite 
satisfied  with  looking  at  the  result  of 
their  many  hours  of  work,  they  for- 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     195 

got  how  much  yet  remained  to  be 
done,  and  the  younger  ones  played 
upon  it,  fancying  they  were  going  to 
all  parts  of  the  world,  while  the 
ocean  sang  to  them,  and  told  them,  in 
its  never-changing  tone,  many  stories 
of  what  they  were  going  to  see. 

Sam  then  and  there  made  a  plan 
which,  as  soon  as  he  thought  of  it, 
seemed  to  him  so  very  delightful 
that  he  was  almost  afraid  some  one 
would  find  it  out,  and  he  began  on 
the  instant  to  act  as  if  he  had  never 
dreamed  of  any  such  thing.  Does  it 
not  almost  seem  as  if  there  were  some 
children  whom  God  had  given  up  to 
their  "  own  wicked  devices,"  as  it 
says  in  the  Bible,  "  to  believe  a  lie  ?' 
If  there  are,  I  can  tell  you  who  the 
children  are;  they  are  those,  like 
Sam,  who  are  always  planning  to  do 


196     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

just  what  they  wish,  and  yet  at  the 
same  time  try  to  seem  to  others  to  be 
doing  just  what  they  should.  The 
kind  of  children  whom  Captain  Lee 
calls  "little  humbugs,"  not  a  pleas- 
ant name.  I  hope  there  is  none  of 
my  young  readers  who  can  feel  for  a 
moment  that  it  can  by  any  possibility 
belong  to  him.  No  sooner  had  this 
wish  taken  full  possession  of  Sam's 
heart,  than,  as  we  have  said,  he 
wondered  if  the  raft  was  safe  so  near 
the  sea  ;  if  it  would  not  be  better  to 
move  it  back  some  feet  and  padlock 
it  to  the  old  elbow  which  had  been 
lately  washed  up,  the  memento  of  a 
new  wreck ;  indeed  every  winter 
brought  too  many  of  these  relics,  and 
even  the  good,  well-kept  light-house 
gave  its  warnings  in  vain.  Tom 
thought  these  hints  were  rather  im- 


EENEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     197 

plying  that  lie  could  not  take  care  of 
his  ship,  so  he  pushed  the  raft  nearer 
the  water,  and  enjoyed  highly  seeing 
the  waves  break  partly  over  it. 

"  She  must  be  seasoned,"  he  said, 
"and  as  they  were  used  to  the  water 
it  would  not  hurt  any  of  them." 

This  was  exactly  what  Sam  wished, 
and  he  made  another  stroke  equally 
successful.  Pretending  to  doubt  a 
great  many  points  about  the  sail,  he 
got  Tom  to  explain  to  him  just  how 
it  worked,  and  declaring  he  was  a 
sailor  before  the  mast,  he  put  him- 
self under  Tom's  command  in  a  won- 
derfully obedient  way.  Tom  was 
completely  deceived,  and  rather  sor- 
ry he  had  been  so  rough  with  Sam 
about  the  work ;  therefore,  with  the 
good  feeling  so  natural  to  him,  he 
taught  him  how  to  manage  the  raft 


198     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

as  well  as  he  could  while  it  stood  on 
dry  land ;  and  Sam  said  he  was  the 
most  knowing  captain  he  ever  saw, 
and  he  wonld  sail  under  him  the  very 
first  live  ship  he  commanded. 

Ernest  had  been  learning  too;  and 
when  at  last  the  setting  sun  began  to 
light  up  the  white  caps  with  its  col- 
ored lights,  and  the  blue  horizon  to 
seem  to  come  nearer  and  nearer  to 
them,  and  the  moaning  of  the  water 
to  grow  louder  and  deeper;  when 
they  could  no  longer  count  the  sea 
gulls  as  they  came  sweeping  down  for 
their  evening  dip  into  the  water,  then 
both  Ernest  and  Sam  felt  veiy  sailor 
like,  and  as  if  they  were  quite  fitted 
to  take  a  small  craft  and  sail  round 
the  world.  Standing  there  to-night 
on  this  new  raft  in  the  deepening 
twilight,  they  both  imagined  they 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     199 

started  on  a  long,  beautiful  voyage. 
It  was  full  of  dancing  waves,  sea 
birds,  and  sea  glories ;  and  for  the  dis- 
tant port,  neither  of  them  thought 
of  that  yet. 

13 


200     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 
CHAPTER  IX. 

DISOBEDIENCE   PUNISHED. 

SAM  could  hardly  go  to  sleep  that 
night,  he  had  so  many  plans  to  make; 
and  when  he  did,  it  was  to  dream  of 
sailing  on — on — on — over  the  ocean 
with  sails  flying,  and  Alice  sitting  be- 
side him  making  a  flag  with  which 
they  were  to  come  into  port.  I  do 
not  think  Sam  prayed  that  night 
when  he  went  to  bed.  If  he  kneeled 
down  at  all  it  was  because  Eddie  did, 
and  he  thought  he  would  notice  any 
omission  on  his  part;  but  I  am  sure 
he  did  not  ask  God  to  "  deliver  him 
from  temptation,  and  to  keep  him 
from  evil"  in  such  a  way  that  God 
would  hear  and  answer. 

The  first  thing  he  thought  of  when 


EENEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     201 

he  waked  the  next  morning  was  the 
day ;  how  beautiful  it  was ;  the  sun 
shone  in  so  bright  and  warm  on  his 
bed,  and  from  under  his  little  win- 
dow-shade he  could  catch  a  view  of 
the  clear  blue  sky.  O,  if  there  were 
no  school  to-day,  or  if  Eddie  was  sick, 
only  a  little ;  even  then  Sam  did  not 
wish  him  to  suffer,  but  if  he  was  only 
sick  enough  to  be  kept  at  home,  and 
he  left  to  the  whole  day  in  which  he 
could  do  as  he  pleased.  He  almost 
hoped,  as  he  saw  his  little  brother 
opening  Jiis  eyes,  that  he  would  shut 
them  again  and  say  he  was  sick  and 
did  not  want  to  get  up  then ;  but  no, 
Eddie  loved  the  blue  sky  and  the  sun- 
light even  better  than  he  did,  and 
sprang  up  to  enjoy  them,  full  of  rud- 
dy health.  He  must  wait,  then,  for 
another  time ;  but  there  might  come  a 


202     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

storm,  or  a  hundred  things  might 
happen  to  prevent ;  how  hard  it  was ! 
What  was  hard  ?  Sam  never  stop- 
ped to  ask  himself.  If  he  had,  even 
then,  he  must  have  been  frightened 
at  the  answer  he  would  have  received. 
At  the  breakfast  table  his  father  told 
Tom  he  wanted  him  to  go  with  him 
to  N.  for  some  things  needed  in  the 
family,  and  as  there  was  a  great  deal 
to  be  done,  they  would  take  the  boat 
and  start  as  soon  as  breakfast  was 
over.  Sam  looked  up  eagerly  for  a 
moment.  Tom  saw  the  look,  but  did 
not  understand  it.  He  thought  it 
meant  that  Sam  wanted  to  go  with 
them,  so  he  said, 

"No,  sir-ee;  your  business  is  at 
school ;  when  you  know  how  to  do  a 
sum  in  the  rule  of  three  you  may  go, 
but  not  before." 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     203 

"  You  are  not  my  father,"  said 
Sam  testily. 

"Thank  your  stars  that  I  am  not. 
You  would  catch  it  somewhat  oftener 
than  you  do  now  if  I  were." 

"Well,  I  don't  see  what  you  want 
to  be  so  cross  for.  I  didn't  ask  to 
take  your  place." 

"Nor  I  either,"  said  Tom,  laugh- 
ing good-naturedly ;  "  but  somehow  I 
never  see  you  look  up  in  that  way 
without  thinking  there  is  some  kind 
of  mischief  brewing  that  will  come 
out  sooner  or  later." 

"My  eyes  are  my  own." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  only  look  out  that  you 
use  them  right,  with  which  bit  of 
good  advice  I  bid  you  good-morn- 
ing," and  Tom  touched  his  cap  with 
a  great  deal  of  mock  politeness  and 
went  out. 


204     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Sam  stood  at  the  door  and  watched 
him  until  he  was  out  of  sight.  Now 
was  clearly  his  time.  How  should 
he  win  Eddie  over  to  secresy  and  dis- 
obedience. He  began  at  once  by 
being  very  good-natured  to  him.  He 
lent  him  some  of  his  best  plays,  with 
which  he  was  generally  very  selfish, 
and  told  him  some  interesting  stories 
about  the  "splendid  ocean." 

School  hour  came,  and  Sam,  who 
•was  accustomed  sometimes  to  stay  at 
his  aunt's  at  noon  instead  of  coming 
home,  asked  for  his  dinner,  and  per- 
suaded Eddie  to  stay  with  him.  It  was 
all  right ;  his  mother  knew  they  were 
safe  there,  and  was  always  willing; 
so  with  his  satchel  full  of  books  and 
his  tin  pail  of  dinner,  the  boys 
started  quite  early.  Was  it  some 
feeling  of  repentant  misgiving  that 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     205 

made  Sam  go  back  and  kiss  his 
mother  after  he  had  once  shut  the 
door?  I  know  not,  but  his  mother 
remembered  it  with  peculiar  pain  af- 
terward. 

"Let  us  go  round  by  the  beach, 
Eddie,"  he  said  after  they  had  gone 
a  few  steps ;  "  it  is  so  warm,  and  I 
just  want  to  see  if  the  raft  is  all  safe 
and  sound." 

"Mother  don't  want  us  to,"  said 
Eddie.  "Don't  you  know  she  said 
we  always  get  to  playing  and  were 
late  to  school  ?" 

"  Poh,  nonsense ;  that  is  only  when 
it  has  been  cold  enough  to  freeze  our 
noses  and  our  toeses;  she  wont  care 
a  copper  such  a  day  as  this." 

"  I'll  run  back  and  ask  her." 

"Bother  your  asking;  she  don't 
want  to  be  plagued  about  every  such 


206     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

little  gimcrack.  You  can  do  as  you 
have  a  mind  to,  but  I  am  going." 

"That  aint  the  way,"  said  Eddie, 
stopping  as  he  saw  Sain  keeping  on 
the  usual  path. 

"Don't  you  suppose  I  know?  I'm 
going  to  turn  off  below  the  barn." 

"It's  longer  ever  so  much;  John 
says  so." 

"  Well,  what  if  it  is.  I  want  to 
see  if  this  warm  weather  hasn't 
brought  back  the  robin  red  breasts, 
to  build  their  nests  again  down  on 
the  little  apple-tree." 

"  What  one  ?"  said  Eddie,  follow- 
ing. 

"Never  you  mind;  come,  and  I'll 
show  you." 

Now  Sam's  real  motive  for  going 
this  way  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
robin  or  the  nest ;  he  knew  perfectly 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     207 

well  that  it  was  much  too  early  for 
the  birds  to  come,  but  he  thought  if 
his  mother  should  happen  to  be  look- 
ing from  the  window  and  see  them 
she  would  never  think,  if  they  started 
this  way,  that  they  had  any  idea  of 
going  to  the  ocean,  so  they  would  be 
quite  safe.  He  was  troubled  all  the 
way  to  the  beach  to  know  whether 
he  had  better  tell  Eddie  his  inten- 
tions as  he  went,  or  trust  to  the  ex- 
citement of  the  time  to  make  him  do 
as  he  wished  to  have  him.  He  did 
not  dare  to  send  him  to  school  with- 
out him  for  fear  his  aunt  would  im- 
mediately look  him  up ;  and  besides, 
he  would  be  company  to  him  if  he 
could  keep  him  with  him.  He  did 
not,  however,  like  to  be  very  plain, 
though  the  nearer  he  came  to  the 
water  the  more  he  hinted  his  wishes. 


208     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

The  ocean  this  morning  would  have 
been  a  tempting  thing  to  others  than 
these  little  sea-born  boys.  It  looked 
so  still,  so  blue,  so  broad,  and  with 
the  horizon  so  white  and  cloud  tinted 
to  sail  out  and  reach.  The  children 
stopped  in  admiration  as  they  saw  it. 
It  had  not  been  so  enticing  before 
since  the  last  summer. 

"I  wish  father  had  let  me  gone 
too,"  said  Eddie,  half  crying ;  "  I  am 
so  little  I  shouldn't  take  up  much 
room,  or  I  could  have  sat  on  a  box." 

"Tom  gets  all  the  sails,  while  we 
have  to  go  to  school,"  replied  Sam. 
"  It  aint  fair  a  bit,  and  I  wont  stand 
it  much  longer  any  how.  I  am  a  big 
boy,  and  I  guess  I  can  manage  a  boat 
as  well  as  anybody.  Halloo  !  there  is 
the  raft  safe  and  sound.  Look  at  her ; 
aint  she  nice?  She  is  the  lightest 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     209 

"built  little  clipper  I  ever  saw  any 
how." 

u  Halloo !"  shouted  Eddie  in  answer, 
and  down  the  boys  ran  and  jumped 
upon  the  raft. 

"  Let  us  shove  her  along,  and  make 
her  dance  up  and  down  on  the  water 
as  if  she  was  at  sea,"  said  Sam.  u  You 
push  away  on  that  end,  and  I  will  on 
this ;  but  we  wont  untie  her,  so  she 
will  be  all  safe." 

Eddie  did  as  he  was  told,  and  small 
as  both  the  boys  were,  through  their 
eagerness  they  succeeded  in  pushing 
so  far  out  that  one  wave  a  little  larg- 
er than  the  other  lifted  her  up  and 
set  her  quite  afloat.  As  yet  the  rope 
round  the  rib  of  the  ship  held  her 
tight,  and  it  was  rare  sport  to  the 
boys  to  find  themselves  on  the  water 
riding  backward  and  forward  with- 


210     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

out  any  danger,  or  any  one  to  inter- 
rupt them. 

School  hours  came  and  went,  but 
they  never  remembered  it,  or  thought 
of  those  who  were  looking  out  for 
them  every  moment  and  wondering 
why  they  did  not  come.  The  raft 
rocked  so  pleasantly,  and  the  day 
was  so  very  cheerful,  what  had  they 
to  do  within  doors  ? 

For  a  short  time  Sam  was  perfect- 
ly satisfied,  and  he  might  have  been 
content  to  float  there  all  day  but  for 
one  thing,  which  I  wish  my  young 
readers  to  notice  particularly.  When 
any  one  willingly  indulges  in  a  wrong 
thought,  or  wish,  or  plan,  it  almost 
seems  as  if  it  wore  for  itself  a  rut  in 
the  heart,  and  the  very  moment  the 
wheels  of  thought  are  set  in  motion 
they  roll  right  back  into  it.  Do  you 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     211 

understand  what  I  mean  ?  It  is  this : 
Sam  had  indulged  in  making  plans 
about  taking  the  raft  and  going  away 
for  a  long  sail;  and  now,  when  he 
was  enjoying  a  more  innocent  pleas- 
ure, he  could  not  help  thinking 
about  that  and  wishing  he  were  at 
sea.  Perhaps  I  should  have  said  be- 
fore that  both  of  the  boys  had  been 
expressly  forbidden  to  go  out  on  the 
water  without  having  an  older  per- 
son with  them.  Sam  had  several 
times  got  into  a  boat  and  pushed  it  a« 
little  distance  by  himself,  but  he  had 
always  been  severely  punished.  This 
was  only  one  part  of  the  disobediences 
he  had  played  truant  when  he  first 
began  to  go  to  school,  and  had 
been  punished  for  that  also.  He 
knew  perfectly  well  that  if  detected 
now  he  should  not  be  forgiven;  but 


212     ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

his  mother,  he  thought,  would  sup- 
pose he  had  gone  to  school,  and  he 
intended  to  go  in  the  afternoon,  and 
tell  his  aunt  that  his  father  and  Tom 
had  gone  to  N.,  so  that  he  had  been 
obliged  to  stay  at  home  and  do  some 
work.  This  was  his  plan.  The  only 
trouble  he  expected  was  what  might 
be  made  by  Eddie,  who  was  an  honest, 
truth-loving  little  boy,  and  he  hoped, 
by  threats  and  coaxing,  to  keep  him 
quiet. 

•  Once  on  the  raft,  as  we  have  said, 
Eddie  soon  forgot  everything  else; 
and  when  Sam  said,  "you  sit  still 
here,  and  I  will  jump  ashore  and  take 
off  the  rope,"  nothing  seemed  to  him 
more  natural  and  pleasant. 

Sam  was  brave,  and  he  could  see 
the  sand  through  the  water  even  on 
that  part  of  the  raft  which  was  far- 


NO   HUMBUG.       213 

thest  in,  so  he  rolled  up  his  pants 
and  jumped  off  without  any  hesita- 
tion. How  cold  the  water  felt,  and 
how  wet  his  feet  would  be;  but  what 
good  does  it  do  to  think  of  such 
things  after  the  mischief  is  done? 

It  was  quite  an  effort  for  Sam  to 
remove  the  rope,  for  Tom  had  tied  it 
very  fast.  Probably  under  any  other 
circumstances  he  would  have  thought 
it  quite  impossible ;  but  now  he  tug- 
ged and  pulled  until  it  came  off.  Sam 
felt  very  much  like  the  master  of  a 
vessel  when  he  found  how  easily  he 
could  control  the  raft  by  the  rope 
fastened  through  a  rudder  which  John 
had  made  for  it,  quite  in  boat  style. 
He  sprang  on  board,  too,  quite  skill- 
fully for  such  a  child,  and  pushed  the 
raft  off  with  the  long  pole  which  was 
fastened  to  the  side.  There  they 


214     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

were  fairly  on  the  sea.  Eddie  clap- 
ped his  hands  in  perfect  delight  as 
he  found  they  were  leaving  the  shore, 
and  Sam  felt  a  joyousness  he  had 
never  known  before. 

On  they  went ;  no  cradle  ever  swung 
to  the  softest  touch  of  a  mother's 
foot  with  gentler,  more  soothing  mo- 
tion. They  did  not  need  sail  or  oar ; 
the  restless  waves  bore  them  further 
and  further  from  the  shore,  and,  like 
many  other  young  mariners  on  an- 
other ocean,  they  gave  themselves  up 
to  their  present  enjoyment,  nor  had 
one  thought  of  their  future. 

"  I'll  put  up  the  sail,  and  we  will 
go  over  to  Egg  Island  and  get  some 
plover's  eggs,"  said  Sam,  growing 
bolder  as  he  felt  more  at  home. 

"  Splendid,"  said  Eddie,  again  clap- 
ping his  little  hands. 


ERKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     215 

"You  get  out  of  the  way,  so  I 
needn't  knock  you  over  when  I  ]et 
it  out.  Tom  only  stuck  it  up,  you 
know,  and  he  said  it  would  not  work 
just  right ;  but  I  guess  I  am  man 
enough  for  it  any  day.  So  he  said  the 
raft  was  only  stuck  together,"  and 
Sam  for  the  first  time  looked  back 
with  a  slight  uneasiness  to  the  shore ; 
"  and  see  how  she  goes.  Uncle  Will- 
iam's ship  aint  a  whit  better." 

The  sail  was  not  large,  and  was 
lightly  braced  against  the  pole  before 
it  left  the  hold  of  the  old  ship ;  but 
as  the  raft  was  only  partially  nailed 
its  position  was  not  secure,  and  there- 
fore the  children's  danger  was  very 
much  increased;  but  it  caught  the 
wind  as  soon  as  Sam  let  it  fly,  and 
the  boys  found  themselves  going 
much  more  rapidly  out  to  sea. 

14 


216     ERKEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

They  had  been  to  Egg  Island,  three 
miles  distant,  many  times  with  their 
friends,  and  were  quite  familiar  with 
it ;  nor  had  Sam  the  least  idea  but 
that  he  could  reach  it  as  quickly 
and  as  safely  as  when  his  uncle's  hand 
guided  the  helm. 

As  they  went  further  out  of  the 
little  harbor  the  waves  became  high- 
er, and  the  raft  tossed  more,  but  so 
much  greater  the  fun.  If  any  one 
had  been  down  on  the  beach  that 
fine  morning  they  might  have  heard 
the  boys'  gleeful  laugh  as  it  was 
borne  out  on  the  morning  breeze. 

"  There  is  Egg  Island,"  said  Sam, 
pointing  to  a  low,  narrow  strip  of 
land ;  "  now  for  it."  But  though  he 
pulled  away  manfully  at  the  sail,  it 
seemed  as  if  the  wind  laughed  at 
him,  tossing  back  the  canvass  when 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     217 

he  had  succeeded  in  moving  it  a  lit- 
tle to  its  former  place. 

"  I  can't  move  it,"  he  said ;  "  take 
ho]d,  Eddie,  and  pull  hard." 

Eddie's  little  hands  made  about  as 
much  impression  as  a  baby's. 

"  Pull,  I  tell  you !"  said  Sain  sharply. 

"  I  do,"  said  Eddie. 

"Now,  both  together;"  but  still 
the  white  sail  shook  itself  a  little  in 
their  faces,  and  on  they  went,  past 
the  island,  past  the  lighthouse  point, 
away  whither  ? 

It  was  not  until  Sam  found  that 
their  united  efforts  did  no  manner 
of  good  that  he  began  to  have  any 
real  fear,  and  then  he  had  sense 
enough  not  to  show  it  to  Eddie,  but 
said,  quite  boldly, 

u  We  shall  stop  when  we  get  there, 
shan't  we,  Eddie  ?" 


218     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

"Get  where?"  asked  Eddie,  a 
little  ruefully;  "  aint  it  most  school 
time  ?" 

"  Shouldn't  wonder;  but  Aunt  Ellen 
will  think  mother  has  kept  us  at 
home,  and  so  we  must  tell  her.  Mind, 
now;  if  you  don't  you  shall  never 
sail  with  me  on  this  raft  again  as  long 
as  you  live." 

"  When  are  we  going  back  ?"  asked 
Eddie  evasively. 

"  Pretty  soon.  I  wonder  when  it 
will  turn  round,"  and  Sam  looked  at 
the  sail  as  if  he  thought  it  would 
speak  and  tell  him.  The  sail,  how- 
ever, had  but  one  language  to-day. 
It  was,  "  Out  to  sea ;  out  to  sea." 

Fortunately,  neither  of  the  children 
saw  or  felt  their  danger  for  some 
time ;  it  would  have  done  no  good, 
and  they  were  to  suffer  enough.  Ed 


EEKEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     219 

die  was  the  first  to  perceive  their 
peril. 

"I  can't  see  the  shore,"  he  cried, 
looking  on  all  sides  of  the  raft. 

"  No,  but  you  will  soon.  I  guess  we 
are  turning  around  now,  don't  you  ?" 

"  No,  we  are  going  right  into  the 
sky,  and  I  want  to  go  home ;  I  have 
been  here  long  enough." 

"  I  don't  believe  but  we  are  going 
back.  Look  out  sharp,  and  see  if 
you  don't  see  the  ship  soon." 

"  I  can't  see  anything  but  water, 
water,  water,"  said  Eddie,  standing 
up  and  straining  his  eyes. 

"  Look  sharp !" 

"  I  do  look  sharp.  O,  Sam,  I  want 
to  go  home." 

"  Well,  set  down  and  don't  fuss ; 
we  shall  get  there  soon,  you  see  if  we 
don't;"  and  very  likely,  as  they  were 


220     ERKEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG. 

now  beyond  any  landmarks  that  they 
knew,  Sam  was  honest  when  he  said 
so.  Even  at  this  distance  from  shore 
the  waves  were  not  rough,  only  they 
were  so  much  larger  than  the  boys 
had  been  accustomed  to  in  their  har- 
bor navigation  that  they  seemed 
very  mighty  to  them,  and  Sam  be- 
gan to  have  some  fears  as  to  the  abil- 
ity of  the  raft  to  go  much  further 
without  breaking  up.  He  recalled 
all  that  Tom  had  said  about  it,  and 
rejoiced  now  over  every  nail  which 
he  himself  had  driven  in. 

They  had  been  at  sea  two  hours 
before  Eddie  began  to  cry,  and  that, 
considering  the  circumstances,  was  a 
very  long  time  indeed;  but  when 
once  his  courage  gave  way  it  all  left 
him,  and  his  screams  made  Sam  feel 
very  uncomfortable.  Did  he  wish 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     221 

he  could  undo  all  this  and  put  his 
little  brother  safely  back  on  shore 
again  ?  Very  likely  he  did,  but  of 
what  use  was  this  repentance  now  ? 
On,  on  they  went,  and  Sam  by  this 
time  began  to  feel  pretty  sure  that 
they  were  not  going  in  the  direction 
of  home.  The  waves  that  were  bear- 
ing this  raft  along  are  just  like  the 
waves  in  life  that  carry  us  all  on.  If 
we  start  out  with  our  sails  set  and 
the  wind  in  the  wrong  direction  we 
must  go.  Repentance  will  not  al- 
ways help  us  any  more  than  it  did 
Sam  now,  it  so  often  conies  too  late. 
How  much  better  it  is,  then,  not  to  do 
anything  that  has  need  of  repentance. 
Sam  kept  up  as  long  as  he  could, 
longer  than  most  boys  would ;  but 
when  the  fears  and  doubts  came  they 
were  very  grievous  to  bear.  He 


222     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

would  not  cry ;  it  was  hard  to  hear 
Eddie's,  who  never  stopped.  He 
would  not  even  say  he  was  afraid, 
but  his  heart  seemed  to  be  laden 
with  lead,  and  even  in  this  sea-breeze 
he  could  hardly  breathe.  At  last  he 
thought  of  praying,  and,  kneeling 
down  in  the  middle  of  the  raft,  he 
folded  his  hands  and  repeated  "  Now 
I  lay  me  down  to  sleep."  He  did 
not  ask  God  to  forgive  him  for  hav- 
ing been  a  wicked,  disobedient  boy ; 
he  did  not  even  ask  him  to  make  him 
a  better  boy  for  the  future ;  but  he 
said  this  simple  prayer  that  his  moth- 
er had  taught  him,  and  then  he 
thought  of  the  boats  which  he  had 
seen  so  often  when  he  had  been  look- 
ing from  the  island,  and  for  the  first 
time  for  an  hour  hope  began  to 
come  back  to  him.  Not  that  he 


EKNEST;  OB,  isro  HUMBUG.     225 

had  previously  had  any  very  definite 
idea  of  being  drowned,  but  he  was 
frightened,  and  wished  he  was  at 
home  again. 

Eddie  had  cried  until  he  could  cry 
no  longer,  and  now,  with  his  knees 
tight  clasped  with  his  hands,  he  was 
sitting  quite  still  in  the  middle  of  the 
raft.  Sam  was  on  the  front,  looking 
eagerly  round  for  a  boat.  It  was 
midday,  and  so  warm  and  bright  that 
it  took  away  a  great  deal  of  the 
discomfort  which  must  otherwise 
have  come  to  them;  indeed,  if  they 
had  been  good  sailors,  and  they  had 
come  out  with  their  mother's  leave, 
nothing  could  have  been  more  enjoy- 
able. No  boat  was  to  be  seen,  and 
still  on  they  went  further  and  further 
from  land,  just  where  the  breeze, 
which  seemed  to  be  freshening,  chose 


226     ERNEST;  OR,  iso  HUMBUG. 

to  carry  them.  Sam  never  could  tell 
what  they  were  doing,  nor  how  he 
felt,  when  he  heard  a  voice  calling 
out  to  him, 

"  Boat  ahoy !" 

He  was  too  terrified  to  answer,  for 
though  this  was  what  he  had  been 
looking  and  longing  for,  the  wide 
waste  of  waters  was  so  still  that  it 
frightened  him  when  it  came. 

"Boat  ahoy,  there?"  he  heard 
again,  and  at  the  same  moment  he 
saw  right  before  him  a  boat  with  two 
persons  in  it.  Would  they  go  by 
without  coming  to  him  ?  what  would 
he  do  to  make  them  come?  He 
tried  to  shout,  but  his  voice  sounded 
so  faint,  and  trembled  so  much,  no 
one  could  have  heard  him,  and  still 
every  now  and  then  came  the  call  to 
them  in  the  same  words,  "Boat 


ERNEST;  OK,  NO  HUMBUG.     22Y 

ahoy !"  and  the  boat  bore  down  di- 
rectly upon  them.  As  soon  as  it  was 
near  enough  to  see  them  distinctly 
Tom  called  out, 

"Father,  I  do  believe  Sam  has  sto- 
len the  raft,  put  the  sail  up,  and  got 
way  out  here.  Yes,  as  true  as  can 
be,  there  he  is,"  and  he  turned  very 
pale  as  he  became  sure  that  it  was  so. 

It  will  not  be  necessary  to  go 
through  all  that  followed.  Tom  and 
his  father  were  on  their  way  back 
from  N.,  and  had  come  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  boat ;  thus,  in  all  probabil- 
ity, saving  the  lives  of  both  the  chil- 
dren. They  were  taken  into  the  boat 
and  carried  back  to  Nelson  Island. 
It  was  just  dinner-time  when  they 
once  more  reached  home,  and  the 
scene  which  took  place  then  we  would 
not  like  to  describe.  Sam  was  not 


228     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

allowed  to  go  out  of  the  house  again 
for  a  whole  week;  and  as  he  was 
mostly  shut  up  in  his  room  alone,  he 
had  ample  time  to  repent  and  make 
many  plans  for  amendment,  but  how 
sincere  and  hearty  they  were  we 
shall  have  an  opportunity  to  see  as 
our  story  goes  on.  Certainly  it  did  not 
speak  well  for  him  then,  that  when- 
ever he  heard  his  mother's  steps  com- 
ing near  the  door  he  hid  away  the 
boat  he  was  whittling  out  of  a  blocl 
of  wood,  and  took  up  his  Bible  cw 
his  child's  hymn  book. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     229 
CHAPTER  X. 

NO   HUMBUG. 

THIS  story,  with  all  its  details,  was 
repeated  by  Tom  at  his  aunt's  house, 
and  made  a  very  great  impression  on 
Ernest.  He  had  himself  made  many 
pleasant  plans  of  taking  the  raft  and 
Alice,  and  going  out  to  meet  their  fa- 
ther when  it  should  be  time  for  him 
to  return,  but  he  had  no  idea  of  do- 
ing so  without  leave ;  indeed,  Ernest 
was  not  one  of  the  kind  of  boys  who 
can  enjoy  a  thing  of  which  they 
think  those  they  love  would  not  ap- 
prove. Ernest  was  beginning  to  get 
a  very  vivid  idea  of  what  a  humbug 
is,  and  to  dread  anything  which  would 
take  him  into  the  class  to  whom  the 
name  is  applied.  His  mother  was  so 


230     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

kind  and  so  wisely  indulgent  that  nei- 
ther he  nor  Alice  ever  felt  that  any- 
thing, was  half  enjoyed  unless  she  en- 
joyed it  with  them,  and  they  would  no 
more  have  thought  of  deceiving  her 
than  they  would  of  deceiving  each 
other.  This  was  a  great  safeguard 
to  them,  and  kept  them  from  many 
of  those  petty  meannesses  and  cheats 
of  which  other  children  are  guilty. 
Mi*s.  Lee,  I  have  said,  was  wisely  in- 
dulgent. By  this  I  do  not  mean  that 
she  allowed  them  to  do  whatever  they 
wished,  and  fed  them  on  candy,  pies, 
and  cakes.  Far  from  it ;  all  I  mean 
is,  that  she  never  said  no  when  it 
was  not  necessary  for  their  good.  She 
did  not  hesitate  to  take  some  trouble 
in  order  to  secure  their  happiness, 
and  she  made  their  well-being  the 
one  great  object  of  her  life. 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     231 

The  escape  of  Sam  and  Eddie  she 
turned  to  a  very  wise  purpose.  She 
pointed  out  erery  wrong  thing  in  it, 
beginning  with  the  first  foolish  wish 
in  Sam's  heart,  and  remarking  his 
duplicity  in  taking  the  path  which 
would  deceive  his  mother  should  she 
happen  to  be  watching  them. 

The  first  time  after  the  disobedience 
that  Sam  made  his  appearance  at 
his  aunt's  was  on  the  following  Sab- 
bath, at  a  small  Sabbath-school  which 
she  held  purposely  for  the  children 
on  the  island.  There  was  no  church 
here ;  indeed,  so  few  inhabitants 
could  not  well  support  a  minister; 
but  occasionally  Captain  Lee  would 
bring  one  out  from  N.  to  spend 
the  Sabbath  with  and  preach  t  to 
them.  And  then  again  on  a  fine 
Sunday  he  would  fill  the  "  Bonnie 


232     ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG. 

Blue  "  with  as  many  passengers  as  it 
could  hold,  and  sail  over  to  N.  to 
church.  Indeed,  his  wife  and  himself 
were  members  of  a  Church  there,  and 
they  considered  it  a  duty  and  a  priv- 
elege  to  go  when  they  could.  This, 
however,  did  not  interfere  with  the 
Sabbath-school  at  home.  There  were 
a  few  fishermen's  families  who  resided 
on  the  island,  so  that,  altogether,  they 
made  a  Sabbath-school  of  twelve 
children,  and  Mrs.  Lee  was  superin- 
tendent, teacher  and  all  in  one.  The 
school  was  held  in  Mrs.  Lee's  pleas- 
ant dining-room,  and  the  children 
thought  it  the  most  cheerful  room, 
and  this  hour  the  pleasantest  hour  in 
all  the  week.  Sam,  bad  boy  as  he 
sometimes  was,  could  not  bear  now 
to  lose  it.  It  is  strange,  but  if  his 
parents  had  kept  him  at  home  it 


ERNEST  ;    OR,  NO   HUMBUG.      233 

would  have  been  the  severest  pun- 
ishment they  had  inflicted  on  him 
during  the  week. 

Mrs.  Lee  expected  him,  and  had 
prepared  the  lessons  with  reference 
to  him ;  that  is,  she  had  chosen  verses 
which  spoke  of  this  humbugging, 
this  want  of  a  pure,  simple,  honest, 
upright  character  as  a  sin  in  God's 
eyes.  I  must  quote  a  few  of  them 
here  for  such  of  my  young  readers 
as  are  conscious  in  their  hoart  of 
hearts  that  this  sin  is  one  of  which 
they  are  not  innocent.  Mrs.  Lee's 
habit  was  to  read  the  verses  one  by 
one,  after  she  had  the  lesson  recited 
which  she  had  given  out  on  the  pre- 
vious Sunday,  so  now,  after  having 
sung  and  offered  a  prayer,  in  which 
she  did  not  forget  to  ask  God's  for- 
giveness for  the  erring  boy,  she  read 
15 


234     ERNEST;  OB,  NO  HUMBUG. 

these  verses:  "Let  no  man  deceive 
himself."  "  Be  not  deceived ;  God  is 
not  mocked:  for  whatsoever  a  man 
soweth  that  shall  he  also  reap.1' 
"When  thou  prayest,thou  shalt  not  be 
as  the  hypocrites  are :  for  they  love  to 
pray  standing  in  the  synagogues  and 
in  the  corners  of  the  streets,  that  they 
may  be  seen  of -men."  "  When  ye  fast 
be  not  as  the  hypocrites,  of  a  sad  coun- 
tenance, for  they  disfigure  their  faces, 
that  they  may  appear  unto  man  to 
fast."  "  All  their  works  they  do  to  be 
seen  of  men ;  they  make  broad  their 
phylacteries,  and  enlarge  the  borders 
of  their  garments."  "  It  is  naught,  it 
is  naught,  saith  the  buyer :  but  when 
he  is  gone  his  way  then  he  boasteth." 
"  Their  habitation  is  in  the  midst  of 
deceit;  through  deceit  they  refuse  to 
know  me,  saith  the  Lord." 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     235 

There  were  many  other  verses,  all 
bearing  on  the  same  subject;  but  the 
time  for  dismission  was  long  since 
past,  and  with  a  brief  explanation 
Mrs.  Lee  dismissed  them.  Sam,  how- 
ever, did  not  go.  Was  he  waiting  to 
be  forgiven?  what  was  he  waiting 
for?  His  aunt  held  her  hand  out 
kindly  to  him  and  said, 

"  I  am  very  much  grieved  to  hear 
such  accounts  of  you." 

Sam  put  his  head  down  on  her 
hand,  and  she  felt  tears  on  it.  Was 
he  touched  and  really  repentant  ? 
Had  God  waited  for  the  child  hi  his 
Sabbath-school  and  blessed  to  him 
these  words  there?  We  shall  see. 
He  certainly  felt  more  truly  grieved 
now  than  he  had  ever  done  before, 
and  that  night,  when  Ernest  and  Alice 
were  singing  with  their  mother  their 


236     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

sweet  Sabbath  hymns,  he  joined  with 
an  interest  he  had  never  shown  be- 
fore, and  out  from,  this  school  to-day 
went  with  all  the  children  an  influ- 
ence which  they  will  feel  for  life.  And 
it  was  all  the  more  impressive  be- 
cause the  boys,  Sam  and  Eddie,  were 
sitting  there  with  them  when  they 
knew  the  ocean  might  have  hidden 
them  from  their  sight  forever. 

The  raft  was  attached  to  the  boat 
and  brought  back  to  its  old  mooring 
on  the  day  when  the  children  were 
taken  up  at  sea ;  and  it  was  express- 
ive of  the  amount  of  confidence 
which  was  felt  in  Sam,  that  an  iron 
chain  was  securely  attached  to  it,  and 
padlocked  to  the  keel  of  the  old  ship, 
so  that  it  could  not  be  removed.  The 
boys,  too,  worked  upon  it  very  busily 
and  finished  it  thoroughly,  so  that 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.    237 

Sam's  father  said,  as  he  examined  it,  he 
thought  it  would  pass  muster  almost 
anywhere  for  a  good  thing  if  the 
boys  did  make  it ;  but  he  proposed, 
as  an  additional  safeguard,  that  they 
should  put  a  railing  of  rope  around 
it,  by  which  the  younger  children 
might  hold  as  it.  was  paddled  near 
shore.  The  boys  were  very  proud  of 
it  when  it  was  done,  and  looked  for- 
ward longingly  to  the  spring  and 
summer  days  when  they  could  enjoy 
it  as  much  as  they  wished.  And  very 
soon  spring  did  come,  and  a  long  va- 
cation in  school  followed,  so  they  were 
at  liberty  to  play  as  much  as  they 
pleased,  and  you  may  be  sure  the  ship 
and  the  raft  came  in  for  their  full 
share  of  the  fun.  It  seemed  as  if 
the  ocean  had  been  gathering  up  its 
treasures;  and  now  when  the  earth, 


238     EENEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

which  had  been  frozen  and  dead, 
came  to  life,  and  brought  forth  green 
grass  and  flowers,  so  the  ocean  heaved 
up  from  its  hidden  storehouses  such 
beautiful  shells,  such  delicate  sea-moss- 
es, such  rounded  and  smooth  pebbles, 
and  so  many  curious  little  fish,  which 
almost  darted  oa  shore,  as  if  they 
wanted  to  show  what  strange  inhab- 
itants there  were  in  the  sunny  depths 
into  which  the  children  might  not 
look.  Ernest  was  so  happy  and  full 
of  new  wonders  in  these  days  that 
he  did  not  think  of  Aunty  May  and 
the  children  he  had  left  at  the  Asy- 
lum, or  of  his  father,  for  whom  he 
had  most  sincerely  grieved  the  first 
few  weeks  after  he  left.  His  mother 
was  so  good  and  kind,  and  Alice  such 
a  dear  little  sister,  xhe  would  have 
been  a  strange  boy  indeed  if  he  had 


*          ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.      239 

had  time  or  heart  for  much  repining. 
It  was  when  the  spring  had  passed 
on  into  summer,  and  the  days  were  so 
long  that  there  hardly  seemed  to  him 
to  be  any  night,  (I  don't  know  why 
there  should ;  he  went  to  sleep  while 
it  was  yet  light,  and  woke  up  after 
the  sun  had  risen,)  that  a  small  cot- 
tage, which  he  had  heard  was  occu- 
pied by  a  family  from  Boston  during 
the  summer,  began  to  show  signs  of 
life.  A  woman,  whom  Mrs.  Lee  call- 
ed "  Nancy  Jones,  the  housekeeper," 
was  brought  over  in  a  strange  boat, 
and  she  went  into  the  house,  opened 
the  window  blinds  and  windows,  and 
called  to  the  children  when  she  saw 
them  passing  to  come  in  and  see 
her.  They  all  went,  and  she  had 
some  nice  things  which  she  had 
brought  purposely  for  them;  but 


240     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

what  she  wanted  to  see  them  most 
for,  was  to  tell  them  that  Mrs.  Tilton, 
the  lady  with  whom  she  lived,  had 
adopted  a  little  girl  for  her  own  child, 
and  was  going  to  bring  her  down 
there  to  spend  the  summer.  Nancy 
said  that  the  child  was  a  beauty,  and 
was  as  good  as  she  was  pretty;  that 
everybody  set  store  by  her;  and  as 
for  her  master  and  mistress,  if  she 
were  twice  their  own  child  she  did 
not  think  they  would  love  her  one 
whit  the  better.  She  wanted  these 
children  to  be  very  kind  to  her,  and 
to  come  and  play  with  her,  and  try 
to  make  her  as  happy  as  they  could. 
The  children  all  promised  that  they 
would ;  and  then  they  had  their  long 
story  to  tell  about  Ernest,  how  he 
was  adopted  too,  and  how  they  all 
loved  him  ;  and  Alice  stoutly  affirmed 


EKNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     241 

that  he  was   her  own  brother,  and 
Ernest  said  he  knew  he  was  too. 

Now  nothing  could  equal  the  won- 
dering surmises  with  which  the  chil- 
dren filled  each  day  previous  to  the 
new  arrival.  Anything  new  delights 
a  child ;  but  these  little  folks  were  so 
separated  from  others,  so  on  a  sort 
of  Robinson  Crusoe  Island,  that  they 
were  doubly  expectant,  and  full  of 
anticipations.  The  longest  part  of 
the  summer  was  the  week  after  Nancy 
Jones's  arrival,  before  the  same  boat 
brought  over  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tilton  and 
the  little  girl.  When  they  came  Mrs. 
Lee  kept  the  children  away,  and  so 
it  was  not  until  the  day  after  their  ar- 
rival that  they  met.  You  may  judge 
of  the  amazement  both  felt  when 
Rachel  saw  Ernest,  and  Ernest  saw 
Rachel  !  For  a  moment  neither  of 


242     EKNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

them  spoke,  and  when  they  did,  it 
was  with  a  shyness  almost  as  great  as 
if  they  had  never  seen  one  another 
before.  Nancy  Jones  had  taken  Ra- 
chel out  to  make  her  acquainted  with 
the  new  playmates,  and  when  she 
saw  these  two  had  met  she  was  full 
of  wonder,  and  none  the  less  so  when 
Rachel  whispered  to  her  that  Er- 
nest was  the  very  boy  she  had  cried 
so  often  to  see,  and  that  she  loved 
him  better  than  she  did  anybody  in 
the  world  but  her  new  papa  and 
mamma.  It  was  indeed  a  singular 
Providence  that  brought  these  chil- 
dren together  after  a  separation  which 
in  most  cases  would  have  been  final ; 
but  here  they  were,  and  their  life  to- 
gether will  form  the  subject  of  the 
next  book  of  this  series. 

In  closing  this  volume,  we  have  a 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     243 

few  words  which  we  wish  to  whisper 
to  our  young  readers.  I  do  not  doubt 
you  are  interested  in  these  little  or- 
phans, Aunty  May's  children ;  but 
what  they  do  and  say  is,  after  all,  but 
a  small  part  of  the  real  good  which 
the  books  are  to  do  you.  If  you 
shut  these  covers,  and  remember  only 
what  children  call  the  interesting 
parts,  I  shall  have  written  in  vain. 
What  I  want  you  to  carry  away  from 
the  perusal,  what  is  the  only  thing 
of  any  true  importance,  is  this :  Chil- 
dren, don't  be  humbugs;  don't  try 
to  deceive,  to  appear  any  better  than 
you  really  are;  don't  do  a  thing  to 
make  others  think  you  are  pure  and 
of  good  report,  while  you  put  it  on 
to  make  believe,  and  carry  out  your 
own  purposes  in  your  own  way.  I 
once  knew  a  little  girl  strike  another 


244     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

in  temper,  and  when  her  mother  came 
to  punish  her  for  it  she  laughed,  and 
said  she  only  "  did  it  in  play."  That 
little  girl  was  a  humbug.  I  knew  a 
boy  who  when  he  had  done  wrong, 
and  his  mother  took  him  to  chastise 
him,  would  ask  her  to  pray  with 
him  first;  not  that  he  cared  to  have 
God  forgive  him,  but  that  he  thought 
if  he  seemed  very  repentant  and 
good  his  mother  would  forgive  him. 
That  boy  was  a  humbug.  I  have 
seen  children  slyly  take  something 
nice  to  eat,  put  it  in  their  pockets, 
and  when  their  mothers  were  look- 
ing at  them  keep  their  mouths  still, 
as  if  they  were  not  eating.  They 
were  humbugs.  I  have  known  chil- 
dren at  school  play  under  cover  of 
the  open  books  which  they  held  be- 
fore them,  spend  their  time  drawing 


ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG.     245 

pictures  on  their  slates,  and  then  copy 
their  sums  from  their  more  faithful 
neighbor.  This  was  all  humbug.  I 
need  not  tell  you  any  more  instances ; 
look  into  your  hearts  and  answer  for 
yourselves.  Is  there  anything  of  the 
humbug  about  you  ?  If  there  is,  re- 
member, God  is  never  deceived.  Let 
me  beg  you  all  to  learn  the  hundred 
and  thirty-ninth  Psalm.  Hear  how 
it  begins : 

"  O  Lord,  thou  hast  searched  me, 
and  known  me.  Thou  knowest  my 
downsitting  and  mine  uprising ;  thou 
understandest  my  thought  afar  off. 
Thou  compassest  my  path  and  my 
lying  down,  and  art  acquainted  with 
all  my  ways.  For  there  is  not  a 
word  in  my  tongue,  but,  lo,  O  Lord, 
thou  knowest  it  altogether." 

The  great  God  it  is  who  knows  us 


246     ERNEST;  OR,  NO  HUMBUG. 

in  this  way.     Children,  remember  it. 
You  cannot  deceive  him. 

Those  of  my  readers  who  feel  in- 
terested enough  in  this  book  to  fol- 
low me  into  another  will  hear  more 
of  Rachel  in  connection  with  these 
children  whose  life  they  have  been 
following,  and  of  Captain  Lee,  who 
returns  soon  after  the  summer  is 
past ;  of  the  old  wreck ;  of  the 
raft,  and  of  Sam's  efforts  to  become 
an  honest,  true-hearted  boy ;  but  most 
of  all  they  will  hear  how  Rachel,  in 
the  efforts  she  made  to  rule  a  high 
and  hasty  temper,  illustrated  this  text. 
You  will  find  it  in  Proverbs  xxv,  28  • 
"  He  that  hath  no  rule  over  his  own 
spirit  is  like  a  city  that  is  broken 
down  .and  without  walls." 

THE    END. 


BOOKS  FOE  SUNDAY-SCHOOLS. 

2OO  Mulberry-street,  New  York. 

WHAT  NORMAN  SAW 

In  the  West.  By  the  Author  of  "Four  Days  in 
July,"  and  "  A  "Winter  at  Woodlawn."  Eight  Illu»- 
trations.  18mo. 

HENRY'S  FIRESIDE, 

's  Fari 
istrations. 


With  Peeps  at  his  Grandpa's  Farm.    By  the  Author 
of  "  Little  Ella."    Two  Illust     ' 


THE  ARBOR; 

Or,  Sequel  to  Voices  from  the  Old  Elm.  By  Kev. 
H.  P.  ANDEEWS,  Author  of  "  Six  S*eps  tu  Honor." 
Five  Illustrations.  18mo. 

THE  YOUNG  PILGRIM; 

A  Story  illustrative  of  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress." 
By  the  Author  of  "  The  Giant-Killer ;  or,  the  Battle 
which  all  must  Fight,"  "  Eoby  Family,"  etc.  Four 
Illustrations.  18mo. 

FACTS  ABOUT  BOYS, 

For  Boys.  Being  a  Selection  of  interesting  and  in- 
structive Anecdotes  of  Boys.  BY  Eev.  KJOHARD  DON- 
XERSLEY.  Five  Illustrations.  18mo. 

STORIES  IN  VERSE 

For  Children.  By  the  Author  of  "Little  Ella." 
Three  Illustrations.  18mo. 

HANNAH  LEE; 

Or,  Rest  for  the  Weary.  By  the  Author  of  "  Matty 
Gregg,"  "Margaret  Craven,"  etc.  Five  Ulixstra- 
tions.  18mo. 

MILES  LAWSON; 

Or,  the  Family  at  the  Yews.  Three  Illustration* 
18ino. 


BOOKS  FOE  SUNDAY-SCHOOLS. 

300  Mulberry-street,  New  lar*. 

NELLIE  MORRIS 

And  her  Cousin.    A  Story  for  Girls.    Four  Illus- 
trations.   18mo. 

STORY  OF  A  SCRIPTURE  TEXT; 

Or,  What  four  little  Girls  did  with  a  Text  about 
Pleasant  Words.    Three  Illustrations.   18mo. 

THE  NAUGHTY  G-IRL  WON; 

Or,  the  Story  of  Kitty  Willis  and  her  Friend,  Lucy 
Burn.    Three  Illustrations.    18mo. 

HELPFUL  SUSAN: 

The  Sory  of  a  Girl  who  made  herself  Useful.    By 
Mrs.  C.  M.  EDWABDS.    Four  Illustrations.    18mo. 


SAMMY  SEYMOUR, 

The  Drunkard's  Boy.    A  Story  for  Boys.    ] 
C.M.EDWAKDS.    Three  Illustrations.    18mo. 


MY  BROTHER  BEN. 

A  Story  for  Boys.  By  the  Author  oi  "  Mackerel 
Will,"  "Harry  the  Sailor  Boy,"  etc.,  etc.  Three 
Illustrations. 

JENNY  the  Crochet-Worker; 

Or,  the  Path  of  Truth.  By  the  late  SAKAH  M.  FBT, 
Author  of  the  "  Lost  Key,"  "  Young  Hop-Pickers," 
etc.,  etc.  Three  Illustrations.  18mo. 

GRACE  KING; 

Or,  Eecollections  of  Events  in  the  Life  and  Death 
of  a  Pious  Youth :  with  Extracts  from  her  Diary. 
Published  for  the  benefit  of  Youth.  Three  Illustra- 
tions. 18mo. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below 


lOm-ll,  '50(2555)470 


PZ7         Ernest, 


NAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A1E71 


-75485    9 


PZ? 
A1E71 


